


Shattered Stars

by LizHollow



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2020-10-04 00:00:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 27
Words: 92,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20461688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LizHollow/pseuds/LizHollow
Summary: Byleth and Dimitri have enjoyed relative peace since the end of the war six years ago. But when a small uprising turns into something more, war threatens to break Fódlan once again with the remnants of Those Who Slither in the Dark returning to power with a vengeance and a thirst for blood.





	1. Prelude to the Storm

**Chapter One - Prelude to the Storm**

Rhea and Seteth never warned me about what being the archbishop was like.

In most cases, it was a situation where I wanted to say, “Please don’t kill the messenger.” Because the majority of the time, I just passed along the wishes of members of the Church of Seiros. It wasn’t like I knew anything about religion. My father never taught me anything about it, and I was asleep for five of the six-and-a-half years before I became archbishop. It didn’t exactly give me much time to study up.

But by far the worst part about my job was dealing with the politics. Dimitri never warned me about _that_ either. I was certain that the royal council thought Dimitri and I hated each other with all the bickering we got into during meetings. I had to do what was right for the church, as archbishop, but still understand, as queen, when Dimitri wanted what was best for the people of Fódlan.

And most of the time, it came down to money. And while we all had to make sacrifices during the war and stretch the budgets thin beyond measure, it was a little different now.

“You’re not going to like this,” I warned Dimitri. He and I sat beside each other at the long wooden council table. On his right side sat Dedue, which the large man from Duscur argued heavily for “in order to be His Majesty’s shield should the need arise,” given Dimitri’s blindness in his right eye. On my left was Seteth, a quill in hand as he prepared to take notes on the grave news I forewarned.

Then, all along the table’s sides sat various nobility _and_ commoners. That was one of the changes Dimitri implemented almost immediately upon ascending the throne. He admitted that Edelgard had been right about some things. The government needed reform. The idea of nobility ruling everything without the say of the people “beneath them” was archaic at best.

Felix of House Fraldarius, one of my former students from during the time of the war, leaned on his elbow and groaned. “That sounds promising…”

“Let us hear what Her Majesty has to say,” Gustave said calmly from across the table. I hadn’t seen his daughter Annette in a long while, but I thought of her every time I saw Gustave. Which was frequently given that he also taught my son. I would have to send Annette a letter sometime soon.

“I’ve told you to just call me Byleth,” I reminder him.

“Apologies, Your Majesty.”

It was a battle not worth fighting. As a former mercenary, I knew all about that. Religion, the thing I was supposed know like the back of my hand? Not a whole lot. Give me war any day.

Just… not real war.

“All right, let’s hear this great news you have in store for us.” Dimitri squeezed my hand underneath the table as he spoke. He wouldn’t dare touch me where everyone in the room could see, but he spent most of these council meetings with his hand interlocked with mine where no one could see. Every now and again I’d get a sly look from my old student Sylvain if he attended one of these meetings, since he could pick up any semblance of romance from a mile away.

I sigh, knowing exactly where this is going to get me. _Don’t kill the messenger_. I doubt even Sothis herself thought I was qualified for this job. “The church requests that you add religion classes as a mandatory course for students at the public schools. Required for graduation with no exceptions.”

Dimitri’s grip on my hand under the table tightened. His strength was nothing to laugh at, so if he squeezed any harder, my bones might break. I nudged him with my foot, and he dropped my hand altogether.

“You know we can’t do that,” he responded. His voice was low, which was not a good sign. “We’ll have plenty of students who do not practice the faith attending these schools. And we have already declared that Fódlan is a land without a given religion to make for foreigners and others to feel welcome. To go and add religious education courses to our _public_ schools would go against what we have just ruled—with _your_ blessing, need I remind you.”

My blessing… I got an incredible amount of backlash for that one. Most of Fódlan, by a large margin, followed the teachings of the goddess.

“And _you_ know what will happen if you refuse,” I countered. I hated this part of it. This was exactly why people thought Dimitri and I didn’t get along and were only married for political purposes. Because I had to threaten him at staff meetings. “The church will revoke all its funding for the schools.”

“What?” A chorus of flabbergasted remarks burst from the rest of the table. Alois stood up and waved his hands to get the rest of the people to quiet down. “Professor, that will prevent the schools from opening on time when the harvest ends.”

I knew that. And I knew that this was the only way the conversation would go. Dimitri wouldn’t bend, which I didn’t hold against him, because the whole purpose of this reform was to separate the powers of church and state. But it was difficult—perhaps impossible—to go and tell the church that they were no longer in control. _This_ was what Edelgard wanted to prevent… the corruptness of the church from affecting the rest of the country.

“Shall I suggest that we just allow it?” one of the members of the nobility suggested. “Just give the church what they want. It could even benefit the kids to have a little religion in their lives.”

“No,” Dimitri said. “There are people in this country who celebrate the works of gods different than ours. Immigrants from Duscur, Almyra, and Brigid who believe in multiple gods, a significant amount of people in the old Empire and Alliance who never believed in anything at all but their own morals, people who have abandoned the church during the war. It would be disrespectful to these people to force them into our teachings. And,” he added, glancing out of the corner of his eye in my direction, “it would give the impression that the government is under church control if we give in.”

“To be fair, you are in bed with it,” Alois joked. I rubbed my forehead to avoid the gazes of the others at the table. I could picture Felix scowling at me without having to see it.

“Thank you for that,” Dimitri responded calmly. “But the point remains the same. We will wait to open the schools until we can collect more taxes to fund the rest of the construction. I understand that means that the schools won’t be able to open on time, but I will not allow the church to manipulate us for what it wants.”

There was a murmur of disappointment, but no one spoke up to disagree. The nobility didn’t care much of it—they got to send their older kids to Garreg Mach, which was almost exclusively nobility given the exorbitant cost to attend. I remembered Leonie telling me about how her whole village had to help raise money to send her. That was what the public schools hoped to fix. Education for all despite how much money you had.

Sometimes I felt like a hypocrite, though, given that we provided our own son—and soon daughter once she was old enough—with his own private education through Gustave and various tutors.

“Is that all?” Dimitri asked, rising to his feet and placing his hands on the tabletop. He towered over all of us, a visual power regardless of his invisible strength.

“Not quite, Your Majesty,” Gustave interrupted as Dimitri started to move from the table. “There is news of a small uprising near the border of the old Empire and Alliance. A number of villages were destroyed, with the casualties nearing about one hundred. Soldiers were dispatched to the area, and it seems to be under control for now. But it is an area to watch.”

Dimitri nodded. “All right. Thank you, Gustave. Anything else?”

There was nothing more to be said. Dimitri left the room first, leaving me behind still sitting at the table. The others began talking and dispersing, and still I sat. There were times that I wished Sothis could still communicate with me. If she could, maybe I would be a stronger leader for the church.

“Professor. Hey, Professor. Snap out of it.”

I blinked and looked up. Felix had sat down in the seat beside me that Dimitri vacated—slightly taboo, but I wasn’t going to say anything about it, and he knew it.

“I don’t know who hates this shit more,” he continued without me getting a chance to apologize for ignoring him. “I was never any good at just sitting around and listening to people talk. You know all about that.”

I smiled. Sometimes I wished I could go back to Garreg Mach and teach again. Rhea threw it at me, but I was actually pretty good at it. A lot better at teaching than ruling over a church that I knew little about. But being the embodiment of the progenitor god made it difficult for me to leave the position.

“A proposal, then.” Felix shifted in his seat, sitting up a little straighter and angled more at me. “Talk to him for me. Get him to give me permission to go to the uprising zone. My sword is starting to rust from all this sitting around, and I’m sick of it.”

“If you go, it’ll start another war. You won’t be able to control yourself.”

Felix laughed dryly. “Well, that might be true.”

I stood up, and it was only a moment before Felix rose to my side. He towered over me but not nearly as much as Dimitri. I had a sneaking suspicion that it angered Felix that Dimitri was taller than him. It was a whole male ego thing. I didn’t pretend to understand it. But Felix was competitive to the extreme, and it was things as simple as that that pissed him off.

“I’ll mention it.”

“What about you? You miss it, don’t you? Bet you’d like to go. Slaughter some enemies, get your sword sharp again.” Felix crossed his arms, staring at me with that look that told me he could see past my façade. “Come on, you were meant to be a mercenary, not some archbishop without any power. Get him to let you come, too. I know you want to.”

I shook my head. “I don’t need his permission. I can do what I want. And right now, I need to be here. If not for the country, then for Alexi and Katrina.”

Felix scowled again, but he waved me off and started for the door. “Suit yourself.”

I watched him leave, which left me the only one in the room. I leaned forward with both hands on the table and sighed. He was probably right. I knew I wanted to be out there, too. When Fódlan first united after the war, there were still little conflicts throughout the country that Dimitri and I had to deal with. But now, after six years of peace, I had a family to worry about.

I found Alexi playing with some wooden blocks in his room, his sister crawling on the floor behind him to get a better view of his tower. Katrina was more mischievous than Alexi, and I knew that there was a strong possibility of that tower collapsing to the ground due to her curiosity.

“Mommy!” Alexi yelled, standing up and running around his work. Katrina eyed the blocks and picks one up. Our nanny sat in the corner of the room watching, probably waiting for Katrina to chuck that block through Alexi’s masterpiece. But now that I was here, she didn’t need to take care of Alexi’s tears when that inevitably happened.

I picked up my son and held him on my hip. “That’s quite a piece of architecture,” I commented. Alexi grinned, absolutely beaming with pride.

My own father wasn’t exceptionally affectionate with me, but I never doubted for a minute that he loved me. I wondered if he knew as well as I did now that I loved him, too. Alexi wore his heart on his sleeve and hid nothing. But I… well, I wasn’t exactly known for being emotional. Could my father tell that I loved him, like I knew Alexi loved me?

“There you are.”

I turned, finding Dimitri standing in the doorway and leaning against the frame. He smiled at the scene in front of him, and I set Alexi down so he could run to his father. There was a clatter behind us as Katrina knocked Alexi’s design to the ground, but the timing was perfect, and Alexi didn’t appear to notice since he was too busy worrying about his dad.

“You didn’t go to the stables after the meeting,” Dimitri said to me as he lifted our son into his arms.

We had a tradition of going horseback riding after those council meetings ended, usually because they were heated, and we needed some time together to debrief. Plus, I liked the proximity of holding onto him whenever I convinced him to let me ride his horse instead of separately on mine.

“Felix wanted to talk.” I walked over to Katrina and picked her up, and she immediately yanked on a strand of my hair. “He wants your permission to go to the uprising. Wants to get his blade dirty.”

“Mommy,” Katrina whispered in my ear, and I poked her nose to make her giggle.

Dimitri let Alexi go, and hell broke loose when the prince noticed his destroyed tower.

“Go help your brother fix that, please,” I told Katrina, and she wiggled out of my arms to follow my directions. There were still tears, but the two began working together to rebuild.

“Why does he need my permission?” Dimitri asked.

I walked closer to him to stand by his side and watch our children play. “He’s under the impression that I do, too.”

“For what?”

I looked up at him, and he frowned as he gazed back down at me. “To go.”

“You want to?”

“Maybe,” I answered. It was vague. Dimitri deserved more than that for an answer. “Deep down I do. It wouldn’t be very dangerous because it sounds like it’s mostly subdued now. But I know that I have responsibilities here to focus on.”

He took my hand. His fingers were always freezing. He probably had poor circulation, which was why he always wore that shaggy fur of his. It took me a little while to get used to the cold of the north, but somehow, I seemed more accustomed to it now than the native beside me.

“I think we can handle it if you leave for a month. It wouldn’t be the first time.”

“It wouldn’t be becoming of the archbishop and queen to get involved in things like that…” I said.

“Then don’t go as archbishop or as the queen. Go as Byleth Eisner.” He reached his free hand up to my cheek and rubbed his thumb along it. “You don’t need my permission, you know. I would miss you—desperately so—but we can manage.”

I smiled and leaned into his hand. “I told Felix that. That I don’t need your permission. But I _do_ want your blessing.”

“And you have it. Just promise to come back safely.”

I nodded, and Dimitri leaned forward to plant a kiss on my forehead. “I will,” I promised him. “Like Gustave said, it’s just an area to watch. It won’t be dangerous.”

“Very well,” Dimitri said with a small grin. “Then we will await your return.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be a one-shot that ended up turning into a whole thing, so… whoops. The Blue Lions route was one of the only ones to not have a solid conclusion to the Those Who Slither in the Dark storyline, and I could not let that go. Thus, this. More to come soon.


	2. Sleepless Nights

**Chapter Two – Sleepless Nights**

Even though fifteen years passed since the Tragedy of Duscur, Dimitri still couldn’t sleep through the night.

I’d gotten so used to him disappearing in the middle of the night that I no longer thought much of it. He’d be there when I fell asleep, arms wrapped around me so that my face rested on his chest, and when I next awoke, he’d be gone. I wasn’t sure how he functioned on so little sleep, but he always assured me he got some with me by his side. But my presence still wasn’t enough for him to make it through to daylight after all.

When I woke up that night, surrounded by darkness still, he was gone. Most nights I would’ve rolled back over and gone back to sleep, but I pushed myself out of the bed instead. I would miss him while I was gone, so going a second without him now seemed… unbearable.

My bare feet touched the ground softly, and I took each step quietly to avoid waking the dog that slept on the fur rug in front of our bed. The effort was in vain, though, because he picked his head up and looked at me with a whimper. He was a stray from Garreg Mach with some serious abandonment issues, which reminded me a little of someone I knew.

“Go back to sleep, Dani. I’m just going to find Dimitri,” I told him. He put his head back down but continued to watch me as I walked out of the room.

I peeked in the rooms of each of my children as I walked by them in the hallway. Katrina recently transitioned from her crib to a bed. I expected her to fight it like Alexi did, but the second her head hit that pillow the first night, her life changed for the better. Linhardt would have been proud.

Both Katrina and Alexi looked just like their father. Neither of them got much from me. If they hadn’t come from me, I would never have guessed they were my children by looking at them. But Katrina’s personality was more similar to mine than Alexi’s. She was sharper with her words, precocious for a two-year-old, but generally an observer until she wanted something. Cold, calculating. Too smart for her own good. That part might’ve been courtesy of her Uncle Claude.

Alexi was his father’s son, though. Quiet, polite, a proper prince. Gustave told us he was already a natural when it came to the more physical aspects of the world. He started walking well before his first birthday and then went for his father’s lance next.

Out of the two of them, only Katrina carried her father’s Crest. Neither got mine. And this was one of the biggest and, perhaps, most controversial reforms of all. In the previous rule of the Kingdom, it was typical for noble families to disown their children without Crests. It had happened to Sylvain’s brother, and Mercedes had been thrown aside, as well, when an heir was born with a Crest in her family. Yet despite having no Crest, Alexi was heir apparent—next in line for the crown to rule the country with or without a Crest.

The reform of the Crest system was something Sylvain fought for, but the decision was heavily split between the nobility and the commoners. The decision to recognize the birth of a child ultimately came down to the parents, but the whole attitude towards Crests seemed to take a shift when Alexi was born. There was celebration throughout the country with the news of his birth—until news made its way around that he was born without a Crest. And then the whole of Fódlan held its breath wondering what we would do.

By recognizing Alexi as heir apparent, there was a paradigm shift. I saw Sylvain cry that day, even though he would forever deny it, because he was so happy that there might never be another Miklan.

That was probably why Sylvain took such a shine to Alexi. It wasn’t that he didn’t care for Katrina too, but his interactions with my son were something special. At least for now. Once Sylvain started teaching him how to hit on girls, it wouldn’t be so special anymore.

I could see Alexi sleeping on his side with his arms wrapped around a stuffed wyvern Mercedes made for him. And in the next room, Katrina was spread-eagle on her bed, leaving very little room for the cat between her legs at the base of the bed.

“Your Majesty?”

I jumped, quickly shutting the door to Katrina’s room and spinning on my heel. My free hand still automatically went to my side where I usually attached my sword in its sheath, but I remembered where I was and _when_ before I looked too stupid.

One of the Knights of Seiros who made the rounds of the manor bowed to me. “Can I help you with anything, Your Majesty? May I fetch you a glass of water? Call the nanny?” He gestured to the door beside me, and I dropped my hand from the doorknob.

“No, thank you. I’m just…” I paused. “I couldn’t sleep and wanted to stretch my legs. I’m fine. Please return to your duties.”

“As you wish, Your Majesty.” The knight bowed again and continued walking past me, and I watched him turn the corner at the end of the hall.

Once he was out of sight, I continued my own walk in the opposite direction. Dimitri usually went to one of a few places when he couldn’t sleep, but there was only one place that could distract him enough from the voices that still plagued him. I knew that his nightmares got worse when I wasn’t there. The night before I left to go on a trip was always difficult for him.

I made my way through the dark halls with a hand to the wall to guide me. My eyes adjusted with the faint light of the embers in lamps throughout the hall, but still I proceeded cautiously, lest there be one of the stray cats or dogs Dimitri took in lounging in the hall.

He missed the Officers Academy. Not necessarily school, but he missed seeing his friends and the building itself. He missed the familiarity of it. Maybe even the familiarity of Fhirdiad. This new capital we built was closer to the monastery, yet far enough away that it did not seem in relation to the church. There were even politics involved in where we could call home.

But we did our best to mimic some of his favorite places and things here. Hence the cats and dogs he took in. Only Dani and Katrina’s cat, Mino, were allowed in our rooms, and the other animals were free to come and go as they pleased. The cats mostly took care of any mice or rats, and the dogs made the people here happy.

As for the manor itself, the one thing Dimitri wanted more than anything was a knights’ hall. That was usually where he could be found at the monastery, after all. And so now, when the going got tough, that was where I could find him here.

He was sweating as he practiced with a training lance, spearing the straw dummies in the heart one to the next. I wasn’t sure he noticed I entered the room. I grabbed a training sword from the rack of weapons and walked directly into his next attack, blocking him from piercing another dummy.

His left eye widened, but he recovered quickly and took another swing, this time at me. I parried, knocking his lance aside and cutting under with my sword. He dodged, stepping just out of range, which gave him the advantage with his longer weapon. But the short sword allowed for more careful parries, and I repeatedly blocked his hits.

In the end, I cheated. To be fair, if this was an actual battle, it wouldn’t be called cheating; it would be called strategy. I lobed my sword to my left hand and used my right to form a small ball of magic, casting it at him so it knocked the lance right out of his hand. I stepped forward and pointed my sword at his throat, and he held up his hands in surrender.

“Well done, my beloved,” he commended. “You’ll be fine at the old border.”

“Did you doubt it?” I wondered, lowering my sword.

He smiled at me and picked up his lance. I handed him my sword, and he put both weapons back on the rack. “Of course not. But a husband worries, you know.”

I took a seat on one of the wooden benches and hummed. “Does he?”

Dimitri sat next to me and laced his fingers through mine. His hands were calloused and scarred, but that just told me the story of all he went through. In the end, they still felt like hands, and they felt the most human when against mine.

“I hate it when you are gone,” he told me quietly.

I squeezed his hand, placing my other hand on top of our joined ones so that I encompassed him almost fully. “You could come with me.”

Dimitri shook his head solemnly. “The timing won’t work. We’re going to have to scramble to reassess the tax situation to get the public schools open. Then there are trade renegotiations with Almyra—Claude’s coming next week. He’ll be upset not to see you.”

“He’ll live.”

“I will make sure he doesn’t get Alexi into too much trouble with pranks again,” he assured me, which wasn’t much assurance because it hadn’t gone well last time Claude was here. “Oh, and Katrina will begin her language tutoring when the teacher from Brigid arrives. Maybe she’ll be able to greet you in a second language when you return.”

“That sounds nice.”

“Byleth.”

I loved it when he called me by my name. Pet names were nice, of course. But there was something special about Dimitri saying my name. So few referred to me as Byleth these days. It was always “Professor” or “Your Majesty” or “Your Grace.”

“The world does not stop without me,” I reminded him, lifting our hands to my mouth and kissing his hand.

“No,” he agreed, “but it feels as though it does.”

* * *

I remembered so clearly the first time I slept by his side to keep the nightmares away. It had been back at the academy, just after he broke through the rage that had taken over when Edelgard began her rule. It wasn’t the first time I caught him wandering the monastery at night. Neither of us slept very well those days.

I caught him that night in the old Blue Lions classroom staring at the chalkboard. We didn’t use the classrooms anymore, so my writing left on that board was near impossible to remove after five years.

“Professor, awake again?”

He knew it was me without even turning around. Even then, the two of us were in sync.

I sat down at one of the desks and flicked a quill in a glass jar so that it twirled around with a tinny noise. Dimitri turned around to look at me. He appeared so haggard back then, his eye sunken and his skin pastier than I remembered it from five years prior. But at least there was life back in that eye of his.

“Are you not tired after today’s battle?” he asked me.

I flicked the quill again. “I could say the same of you. You overexerted yourself.”

“I am always tired, Professor,” he responded with a smile.

I wanted to tell him not to call me that anymore. I wasn’t his Professor—wasn’t anyone’s Professor. But the thought of him calling me by my name made my pulse quicken, and that seemed inappropriate considering that he was essentially king.

“More nightmares?”

“Always. They never leave me alone these days. Dedue has tried every food and drink he knows to help me sleep, and now I am merely overly satiated _and _afflicted by insomnia.” I knew by his tone that he was joking, but I didn’t smile. “When I was younger and could not sleep, my stepmother used to boil a pot of milk for me with some nutmeg and cinnamon, and that always put me fast to sleep.”

“No luck now?” I wondered.

Dimitri finally walked around the desk and sat next to me. He was not wearing his usual clunky armor but what had to be his night clothes: a cotton shirt and some black pants. He took a turn flicking the quill, but it went flying out of the cup and clattered to the floor. “Unfortunately not. I think it was the taste that had been soothing to me. Now I can’t taste anything.”

I shook my head. “You’ve suffered too much for someone so young.”

This earned a smile, though I couldn’t say why until he enlightened me. “You say that as if you are so much older than me, Professor.”

It didn’t seem fair. Why Dimitri? Why did the world seem so set against him?

“I want to help you,” I told him, “but I am not sure how.”

“You saying that is enough. You need not exert yourself any more than you already have for my sake.” Dimitri rose and retrieved the quill, dropping it back into the cup. “Professor, please try to get some sleep. Tomorrow we set out again, and it wouldn’t do to have you passing out from exhaustion.”

I nodded and started to leave the classroom. But when I got to the doorway, a crazy thought wandered into my mind, and I turned back around. He was twirling the quill with just his index finger now, his strength controlled and his movements almost delicate.

“Dimitri.”

Still sitting, he shifted slightly so he could look over his shoulder at me. My steps echoed in the nearly empty classroom as I approached him again, this time with my hand outstretched towards him.

“Let me help you. Let me try.”

He stared at my hand for a moment before grabbing it and following me. I led him back to my room, a space forbidden and taboo, even though it wasn’t really. Dimitri’s expression was unreadable as I unlocked my door and gestured to the bed against the left wall.

“When I got nightmares as a kid,” I told him, walking over to my bed and pulling the sheets down, “I used to feel better when I had someone to hold onto.”

I crawled into the bed and held my arms outstretched towards him. His face remained expressionless, perhaps because he was trying to control himself, I thought now, and for a moment, I wondered if he would flee the room. But he turned slowly and shut the door behind him, his hand lingering on the doorknob.

And then just as slowly, he climbed in next to me and wrapped one arm under me so that I could lean right up against him. Our faces were probably only an inch apart, our noses practically touching, but neither of us blinked or moved away.

“Good night, Professor,” Dimitri finally whispered after a moment and closed his eye.

“Good night.”

I waited until I heard his breathing slow to release myself to sleep. Maybe it was all very selfish of me. That I wanted someone by my side to help me sleep. But I was glad to see that it worked for him.

Sleep came over me quickly once I knew he was all right, and I dreamed about Sothis. In my dreams was the only time I saw her and spoke with her—but I knew it wasn’t real. It wasn’t like my dreams before when she was actually there. These conversations were replays of events long since passed.

I only awoke hours later because I felt something against my throat. A hand.

“Are you going to kill me?”

The hand shot away from my skin, and I opened my eyes to see Dimitri staring at me horrified. “P-Professor. I am sorry, I just—”

“Just?”

There was light peeking through into the room now, so I could see a blush crawl onto his cheeks. “I… At some point, I ended up with my head… against your chest.” He spoke the last few words so quickly that I barely heard them. The poor man. “And I heard no heartbeat. I was just checking to make sure…”

“That I was alive?” I finished for him when he trailed off. He nodded. “It’s true that I have no heartbeat. But my pulse appears to work just fine.”

“No heartbeat?” Dimitri repeated incredulously, even though he had heard—or not heard—it for himself.

“My father wrote about it in his journal. He suspected Rhea did something to me and fled with me from the monastery when I was still just a newborn,” I told him. The only one I had shared this with was Sothis, and that was only because I had no choice. “But I’m fine. Don’t worry.”

“Worry?” Dimitri sat up, and I sat up next to him. Our legs were touching. The bed wasn’t exactly meant for two people to share. “Professor, I always worry about you.”

I wanted to kiss him. It felt blasphemous to consider it. Maybe it was strange of me to feel anything at all. But was I not a human, despite also serving as a vessel for the progenitor god? Sothis would understand. She would _want_ me to kiss him. She would find it entertaining, to say the least. And yet… it still felt wrong somehow. To even think about it.

So, I looked away from him to hide my feelings and moved my legs so they no longer touched his.

“Were you able to sleep?” I asked.

“Yes…” He sounded surprised by the answer, as though he didn’t expect this to work. “Professor… would it be all right if… no, I should not ask this of you. My apologies.”

This brought my eyes back to his. His hair was all over the place, and it took every ounce of self-control in my being to keep myself from touching it.

“What?”

“I simply wondered if, on nights that I could not sleep, if I might bother you to be by your side again,” he finished.

Goddess… help me.

“Of course,” I replied. “Just don’t let Dedue find out.”

And that was the beginning. It was more unusual for us _not_ to share a bed after that than it was to be together, but I always assumed it was strictly platonic on his end. He never tried anything. He was a perfect gentleman. Just the man you wanted for a king.

I never suspected that a few months later he would reciprocate my hidden feelings and ask me to marry him. But regardless of the label we put on our relationship, the nights always felt cold without him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here, have a cute chapter because I JUST CAN’T with them. They’re too adorable.


	3. Journey to Garreg Mach

**Chapter Three – Journey to Garreg Mach**

“The boar gave his permission, did he?”

Felix crossed his arms as I approached him in armor that I hadn’t worn since before Katrina was born. I was pleased to find that it still fit, even if it was a little bit snug here and there. The range of motion was good, obstruction not bad. It felt made to be worn by me.

“I thought you stopped calling him that,” Sylvain said from Felix’s side. The two were nearly inseparable, even if Sylvain’s unceasing philandering drove Felix to his wit’s end. Neither ever married, but I liked to think it was because they were holding out for each other.

The support party for the uprising consisted of just the three of us. As members from the front lines of the war—and since the situation was not dire—we could handle pretty much anything smaller than a battle with just us. Felix was one of the nation’s best swordfighters, while Sylvain could spear an enemy on horseback without even slowing down.

“Sometimes he earns it,” Felix responded. I wanted to ask what Dimitri had done now to be called a boar again, but I often found it better not to question Felix.

Sylvain rolled his eyes, and his gaze landed on me. “Ah, Professor. You get lovelier every time I see you. I hope you’re looking forward to spending prolonged periods of time with me without His Majesty around. No husband, no kids. This is like a vacation for you, isn’t it?”

“We’re potentially going to have to kill people, Sylvain,” I pointed out. “I wouldn’t call that a vacation.”

“You remind me of Ingrid sometimes, Professor.”

“I’m going to take that as a compliment.” I linked gazes with Felix, who shook his head, encouraging me to take it as a compliment even further. “If we want to make it to the monastery by nightfall, we need to get moving. You ready?”

The boys nodded. We each mounted our horses, whose bags were filled to capacity with rations and other necessities. I hadn’t been one for horseback riding prior to marrying Dimitri, but now I found serenity in the activity. Even having a destination and not merely riding for enjoyment still brought some relaxation. Felix did not seem as enthused as the rest of us.

“What is the destination?” Sylvain asked as we trotted along. The roads out of the mountainous region of Oghma, where we built the new capital due to its plentiful resources and proximity to Garreg Mach, were not easily traversable. It made it difficult for the capital to be attacked, should someone conspire against us, but it also made the initial journey away from Oghma long.

I pulled a map out of the pocket near my left leg and unfolded it. “Hrym. That’s where Jeritza was from, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah, and they have a terrible reputation,” Sylvain said. “They participated in the rebellion against Edelgard’s old man and were completely shut down. They’ve pretty much been in disarray since, and with Jeritza’s death during the war, they haven’t had a Viscount. I’m not surprised there has been activity down there. The whole place is a mess.”

I couldn’t say I felt bad about Jeritza’s death—by my hands, no less. It was kill or be killed, and the Death Knight had to be stopped. But I did feel bad about the unintended consequences. That was not to say I would have acted differently if I knew that Hrym would fall into chaos with his death, but I wouldn’t have left the region go unchecked for so long.

We rode in relative silence after that. I didn’t know what to say. Sylvain rarely had nothing to say, though, so he kept a conversation going mostly with himself. Occasionally we would see a beautiful villager on the more well-traveled roads, and he would slow his horse to a trot to flirt.

Night fell before we made it to Garreg Mach, but we only rode on for another fifteen minutes after the sunset in the twilight when it appeared in the distance. I recalled walking this path once with Dimitri, Claude, and Edelgard, oblivious to the plan formulating in Edelgard’s head that almost ruined all our lives. Those were simpler times. My father walked ahead with Alois and the other Knights of Seiros laughing about old times. I didn’t see him laugh a lot and wished I had paid more attention.

The monastery was now more secure than ever before, locking all gates and arming the guard towers as soon as the sun set. I hopped off my horse when I got close enough to the guard towers. Being the leader of the Church of Seiros, I should have had no problem entering. But my face was not as well-known as Rhea’s had been to the members of the church, so sometimes I had difficulty being recognized.

Today, though, there were no issues. The gatekeeper recognized me immediately when he brought a torch forward to fight off the darkness, and my friends and I entered the monastery again as guests.

“Professor! I-I mean, Lady Byleth!”

I squinted ahead on the long path up to the monastery itself and saw someone on a wyvern heading towards us. I half-expected it to be Seteth, who I just saw back at the manor as our note-taker, but who also kept operations running smoothly at Garreg Mach. But it was a pleasant surprise to find that it was Cyril who flew towards us, landing ahead of us to block our path.

“Cyril, what a pleasant surprise. I haven’t seen you since you graduated,” I remarked. That had been nearly two years ago, the first year after Garreg Mach reopened. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m teaching archery now.” His face lit up, and I smiled. He still reminded me of a little kid after all these years, despite being well into his twenties by now. “I heard that there was a small group approaching the monastery and wondered if it was you. Just had a feeling, ya know?” He waved at the boys beside me, and they nodded back at him. “Hello there, Sylvain. Felix.”

“Long time,” Sylvain greeted with a single wave.

“Hey,” Felix muttered.

“Seteth will want to know you’re here. How come you didn’t tell us ahead of time you were coming? He’d have liked that,” Cyril said, hopping off his Wyvern and patting its back to alert it to fly ahead.

We began walking together, guiding our horses by their reins up the path to the monastery.

“It was kind of unexpected. We just needed an easy halfway point for our journey to Hrym. Apparently, there have been some issues down there, so we’re just going to check on the situation,” I explained. Cyril didn’t do a good job of hiding his disappointment. He must’ve been expecting us to stay longer.

“Oh, okay. But we’ll make sure you have a proper welcome tomorrow morning, Lady Byleth. The students will be so happy to see the archbishop.” Cyril smiled and walked ahead of us, leaving me no opportunity to refuse. He had work on the brain—he usually did, anyway. He had been instrumental to the reconstruction and clean up of Garreg Mach, courtesy of his tendency to give all of himself and then some to everything he did. I could only imagine what he intended for tomorrow.

We made it to the main gates of the monastery, and I looked up at the walls that I once called home. There were good and bad memories housed here. This was where all the trouble began that led to the deaths of my friends… the death of my father. But this was also where I forged some of the strongest friendships of my life. Allies, friends. I learned the difference here when I never knew it before.

“Miss it, Professor?” Sylvain whispered in my ear as he strode past. My gaze followed him, and he, Felix, and Cyril disappeared around the corner.

I jogged to catch up, and we brought our horses to the stables before entering the entrance hall. It was mostly empty. Curfew had already been reached for the students, so around this hour, most of the Knights of Seiros would gather in the dining hall for a drink or two. Or five, if I recalled how my father put them down.

It was easy to forget how large this place was. It took us another five minutes just to cross the campus to make it to the staircase to the second floor. The small talk the boys made didn’t make it go by much faster, considering Sylvain kept asking Cyril about girls and Felix about fighting.

Seteth was in his office, one hand pressed to his forehead and the other holding a quill that he tapped on a bare piece of parchment. When Cyril knocked on the doorframe, he looked up. He had softened since the war ended. It had been rare for me to earn a smile from him, but now he gave one freely when our gazes met.

“Lady Byleth. How unexpected,” he greeted.

“I’ve told you that you can just call me Byleth,” I said.

“Me, too, Byleth?” Sylvain asked, and I looked at him with narrowed eyes.

“No, you can continue to call me Professor.”

Seteth stood up and set his quill down. He never changed, I noted, as he walked around his desk to stand in front of me. “To what do we owe the honor of the archbishop’s presence?”

“I’m not here as the archbishop this time, Seteth. Nor as the queen,” I added quickly as he opened his mouth to surely comment on that. “As I explained to Cyril, we are only just passing through and need a place to sleep for the night. We are on our way to Hrym to check on the situation there and provide backup in case it is needed.”

“I’m afraid enrollment is at its peak this year. We have no beds open.” Seteth closed his eyes for a moment as if deep in thought, and then he nodded. “Ah, but we do keep your old room open. But that is hardly befitting for a queen, and we still have nowhere for Sylvain and Felix.”

“I don’t mind sleeping on the Professor’s floor,” Sylvain said. I expected him to add something inappropriate, but nothing came. “Part of the reason I’m here is because Dimitri asked me to keep an eye on her. Protect her, you know?”

“Dimitri asked you to watch me?” I asked.

“Oh, I probably wasn’t supposed to tell you that.”

I crossed my arms and looked at Felix, who just shrugged at me.

“It is not so unusual for a husband to want to make sure his wife is all right,” Seteth offered. “And you are a mother now. Imagine if something happened to you while you were down here. His Majesty is the type who would never be able to forgive himself if he wasn’t around. You know that. I am sure he meant no insult towards you in trusting your abilities.”

“And you know that old Gilbert—Gustave, whoever—will report to you on every move Dimitri made when you return. It isn’t so different,” Sylvain argued.

“Fine. That’s not important right now, anyway.” I turned back to Seteth and threw a thumb over my shoulder. “May we go? Felix and Sylvain can bunk with me. If the room hasn’t been touched, I have extra blankets in there they can use.”

Seteth’s nose crinkled. “That is… highly improper, Lady Byleth.”

“Oh, come on, you know that this stiff won’t try anything,” Sylvain said, elbowing Felix.

“And if this idiot tries anything, I’ll just break his arm off,” Felix responded.

Seteth pinched the bridge of his nose. Maybe he hadn’t lightened up after all, given the enormous sigh that erupted from him. “Very well. How long do you plan on staying with us? Should I expect you for breakfast?”

“We need to leave at sunrise. We’ll just grab something from the pantry quickly before we leave.” Cyril’s face fell, and I smiled at him. “We’ll stop here on the way back, and we can stay for a little longer. I’d like to speak with some of this year’s students at some point, anyway.”

“Excellent. Then I wish you a sound sleep, Lady Byleth.” Seteth bowed and then turned his attention to the men at my side. “Sylvain, Felix, please ensure that Lady Byleth does not put herself in undue danger. She tends to be rather reckless.”

“Not you, too,” I muttered, which earned me another smile from the green-haired man.

“You have many people who worry about you, Lady Byleth. Do not forget it.”

I shook my head and turned, leaving the room with Sylvain and Felix on my heels. I hated to feel like a burden on anyone. My father taught me to take care of myself, perhaps too well, so it wasn’t as if I would go out of my way to die.

When we made it downstairs to my old room, Sylvain chuckled to himself. “I never thought I’d end up in the Professor’s room. It’s an old dream of mine finally coming true.”

“Please don’t say that,” I said. I went into the bureau against the wall and pulled out a couple of thick woolen blankets. “I tend to wake up a lot in the night. I can sleep on the floor closest to the door so I don’t disturb you.”

“You do know that the boar king would have our heads if we let you sleep on the floor, right?” Felix snapped, snatching the blankets out of my hands and thrusting one at Sylvain. “Just take the damn bed. If you need to get up, just step on Sylvain’s head.”

“Yes,” Sylvain agreed, a little too quickly for my liking. “Please. Please step on my head.”

Felix smacked Sylvain across the back of his head, and Sylvain grinned at me. “He will control himself, Professor. Either that or I will kill him myself.”

I didn’t like it, but I also didn’t want to argue. I climbed up on my bed and watched as the boys unfolded their blankets and set them across the floor. We all pulled our clunky armor off and set it around the room, left only in our underclothes that were damp with sweat. Sylvain pulled his shirt off and then lay down on one of the blankets, which he folded around him like a cocoon. Felix blew out the lamps and then followed suit.

“’Night, Professor.”

“Good night.”

They were both asleep well before me. Sylvain snored. Felix mumbled in his sleep. And I lay awake in the night, face pressed into my pillow as images of the past flew through my mind.

Eventually I must have fallen asleep because the next time I opened my eyes, it was because Felix was shaking me.

“Time to go.”

“Is Sylvain still alive?” I asked groggily, rubbing my eyes as I sat up. Sylvain was nowhere to be found in these tight quarters.

Felix gave me a rare smile. “Unfortunately. That just means you must continue to deal with him today. He’s just gone to get some food.”

In less than seven hours, my visit to Garreg Mach was over. As soon as Sylvain reappeared, we retrieved our horses and set off. If Seteth and Cyril hadn’t seen us, no one would have even known we were here.

To answer Sylvain’s question… I missed it. Being a pawn in a political game was not the life I envisioned for myself. Then again, being a teacher never had either. But I wondered if I was living the life I was meant to live, or if I was just going through the motions as if forced by fate.

Fate… just how much power did it hold over us humans?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am returning to work tomorrow, so chapters will not be published as quickly as they have been these three days. Thank you for your continued support. Please consider leaving comments to let me know how you are enjoying the story.


	4. Destruction of Hrym

**Chapter Four – Destruction of Hrym**

Things were worse in the villages of the Hrym region than I pictured. I realized that Gustave said that several villages had been destroyed, but I wasn’t expecting the damage to be so… violent. There had been no rain recently, it seemed, because the streets were still covered red with blood. The villages had been all but abandoned. Bodies still lay on the ground, flies swarming around them like moths to a lamp. The Knights of Seiros were the ones moving the bodies for burial now.

“Goddess…” Sylvain breathed as we surveyed the damage in the latest village we visited. The methods used to murder these people were similar to the other villages. Almost all of them had their throats sliced clean, but likely _after_ a struggle that probably killed them first. The sight was gruesome.

I held my breath and approached one of the bodies, balancing on the balls of my feet as I bent down to examine him. I made my way around to each of the victims, looking for some sort of connection between these murders. If this was an uprising, who was it against?

A wave of dizziness rushed over me. I put a hand to the ground, trying to steady myself, but I dropped from the balls of my feet to my knees.

“Professor?” Felix grabbed my arm and hoisted me back up to my feet. I pressed a hand to my forehead, wobbling against him. “Hey, Professor. Look at me.”

I blinked a couple of times, and two Felixes merged into one. “I’m all right,” I assured him. “I’m used to seeing the dead but not so… decayed. I think I was just holding my breath too long. I was afraid that smell would get to me first.”

Sylvain rushed over to us and put one hand on my arm. “You okay, Professor?”

“Fine. What did you notice about the victims?” I asked in an attempt to change the subject.

“I mean, aside from the absolute carnage?” Sylvain shuddered before glancing around at the bloody scene surrounding us. “Given the clothes they’re wearing, I would say that all the victims are clerics of some sort—maybe priests or even just really devout followers of the church. It’s been similar in all the villages. So, if that’s the case, we might have something bigger on our hands.”

Felix’s brows furrowed. He shot me a glance, as if checking to make sure I wouldn’t pass out on him, before responding to Sylvain. “How do you know? None of them are in robes or anything.” He pointed down the road to one of the bodies. It was a man, late fifties probably, dressed in the dull colors of the commoners of Fódlan. “That guy definitely is not.”

“Normally I would agree. But these murders were spread out in separate villages over the course of several days. If we assume that this is one of the last villages attacked based on a direct path from a distinct starting point, it’s obvious that survivors from other attacks fled here and warned the others.” Sylvain gestured for us to follow him. The smell of the bodies as we approached almost made me gag. “Look at the belts. Gold buckles.”

“It sounds like a conspiracy at best. But then again…” Felix looked disgusted, but I was willing to bet it was more because he was about to agree with Sylvain than the smell. “It wouldn’t have just been some angry commoners. They would’ve taken the buckles.”

Sometimes it was easy to forget that beneath Sylvain’s sarcastic and provocative façade was an intelligent young man. The theory made sense in my opinion. It made sense for some resentment to be held against the church, especially in Hrym.

“We need to focus on preventing future attacks, anyway. The Knights of Seiros say that this attack happened about eleven days ago. The reports indicate that previous attacks were about every other day. The knights have taken up residence in every village in Hrym territory, but unfortunately, that means they’re spread thin. Given the number of soldiers allocated,” I said, trying to quickly do the math in my head, “that’s only two or three soldiers to guard an entire village against an enemy with unknown numbers.”

“And if they’re targeting the church, taking down a Knight of Seiros would be a treat…” Felix looked down the road in the direction of a knight in shining armor. “What if this was all part of the plan?”

I didn’t respond. I hated to admit it, but after the war, the numbers in the church’s army were low. They had yet to recover, partially because of the casualties having been mostly young men and women. The older soldiers retired or took more administrative roles, like Gustave and Alois essentially running the Knights of Seiros from Oghma. Both Catherine and Shamir left the Knights of Seiros and with them, most of their direct subordinates. That left relatively inexperienced or new knights to fill up the ranks.

Still, we had been in Hrym for about a week now without any indication of a future attack being planned. Gustave might have been correct when he said the situation here was under control. Hrym was essentially a military state now. Without a leader to rule it, and given the inability to manage themselves, the Knights of Seiros now took authority over the villages.

I didn’t like the idea of it. Every time the church gained any ounce of strength over the people, I thought about Edelgard. She might have been my enemy—and Dimitri’s, too—but that didn’t mean all her ideals were wrong. In fact, maybe her _ideals_ were right… but to need to kill innocent bystanders to achieve her goals seemed…

Anyway, as the archbishop of the Church of Seiros, I officially had ultimate control over the dispatch of the Knights of Seiros. Neither Gustave nor Alois could overrule me, despite being the highest commanding officers in the army. Thus, although Gustave was justified in sending the knights to Hrym, I could remove them if I saw fit. And then the villagers would be left to their own devices again.

It disgusted me that this, too, felt wrong. What was there to do about Hrym? Assign a new viscount? Even if we could, that order would have to come from Dimitri, and I doubted he wanted to do it. Allow the people to select a leader? Knowing the typical operations of humans, it was safe to assume each village had a leader of sorts already. What would make it different now?

What they really needed, it seemed, was financial restitution. But considering Fódlan could not even afford to open schools… supporting a once-traitorous region would be unlikely to be a concern of taxpayers.

Felix, Sylvain, and I returned to camp at a base in one of the unscathed villages without much of a plan for what came next. I could see the disappointment on Felix’s face that he had not yet had to fight anyone, and I had a feeling Sylvain was annoyed that he had no stories to tell Dimitri about protecting me from some monstrous fiend who wanted my head.

“What do you think?” I asked, dropping onto one of the bunks assigned to us. The knights tried to assign me a private tent for being the archbishop, but I wouldn’t allow it. And tents here were shared by men and women alike, meaning that once again I found myself rooming with my two former students.

“This was a waste. All we got to do was smell dead bodies.” Felix sniffed, as if the smell still lingered beneath his nose. “A motive is no good if there’s nothing left to prevent.”

“But we still haven’t caught anyone,” I pointed out.

“Doesn’t matter. They made their point, scared everyone, maybe knocked the clergy down a peg or two. And like you said, it’s been eleven days since their last attack. We could be wasting our time and resources staying here if nothing happens, and even if it does, the Knights of Seiros are here.”

Another person walked into the tent, forcing Felix’s words to cease. It wasn’t necessarily that our conversation was private, but we had learned the hard way to watch what we said around those we weren’t sure we could trust. The three of us pretended to preoccupy ourselves with mundane tasks. I folded the laundry that would be dirty again in a few hours; Felix sharpened his sword (unnecessarily, it seemed, at this point); Sylvain lay down on the bunk beside mine and was probably daydreaming about girls.

After about fifteen minutes, the knight left the tent, and the three of us resumed our conversation.

“So, what are you trying to say?” I asked Felix.

“Just that there’s no reason for us to stay anymore. But—” he added quickly before Sylvain or I could get a word in. “You’re the archbishop. If it is important to you to catch the fiends who would dare desecrate the name of the Church of Seiros, then you have the power to order divine punishment.”

I had a feeling he was making a jab at Rhea. He knew I found the idea of divine punishment wrong. Sure, as a mercenary, I used to push law and order to the side to be the blade of justice and punish those who did wrong. But to murder in the name of the church conflicted me. Sothis had sided with me in the name of revenge before. And yet…

My vision blurred again. Felix became two again, and Sylvain beside him formed a painting of shifting pastels. My arm might as well have been lead as I raised it to my forehead, pressing against my face as if that would set things right.

One of the two of them—I couldn’t tell who was who anymore—caught me as my knees buckled again. It took only another moment for everything to regain clarity. I pushed myself away from Sylvain and turned from them.

“Professor, you need to lay down.” Sylvain stepped towards me, and I held an arm up to stop him. “Right now.”

I felt this way once before. When, I could not recall. But this was no simple dizzy spell from holding my breath too long.

“Let’s depart for home tomorrow,” I suggested, ignoring Sylvain’s suggestion. “Felix is right. This is a waste of time, and the Knights of Seiros can handle things. Besides, if we make it back soon, I bet Claude will still be in town.”

Seeing Claude would be nice, but he was just a cover for the fact that I missed my family.

“Fine. Now take a nap, Professor,” Felix demanded.

Before I could stop him this time, Sylvain grabbed my shoulders and pushed me down onto the bunk. He threw a blanket at me and then glared. “I don’t want to have to tell His Majesty that you passed out on my watch.”

I could only imagine what Dimitri would say. How embarrassing…

“If you insist. Wake me if anything happens,” I told them, laying down and rolling onto my side.

“That won’t be necessary. Sleep well, _Your Grace_,” Sylvain mocked. I listened as the tarp flapped with their exit, and then I closed my eyes when their footsteps eventually retreated.

* * *

As it turned out, it was necessary to wake me.

Was it a sign that the day we decided our presence was no longer needed was the day the dastards roused themselves for their next attack?

In any case, Felix got his wish. He was practically grinning when he come to wake me. I must have fallen into a deep sleep because it took him shaking me awake to finally get me to stir. I rubbed my eyes and sat up, but Felix left me no time to wake up before explaining the situation.

“It has not been eleven days since the last attack. It has been eleven days since the last _reported_ attack.”

I rubbed my eyes some more to clear the fog in my vision, as if that would help me understand Felix more. “What are you talking about?”

“They messed up. This group of rogues. It turns out they slaughtered the Knights of Seiros guarding the villages in the surrounding area, which is why we haven’t heard anything. One escaped from the last attack yesterday and made his way here—we know where the rogues are heading next,” Felix clarified, and with those words, I woke up entirely. I stood up from my bunk and began searching for my armor and shoes. “What are you doing?”

“Getting ready. We need to go.”

I nearly fell over trying to get my boots on. This was what we had been waiting for. A real battle.

“Sylvain and I think you should stay here. I just came in here to explain the situation and let you know where we were going.” Felix flinched when I turned my head like a whip in his direction. “Professor, you almost passed out twice yesterday.”

“I’m _fine_.” I grabbed the Sword of the Creator from my bedside and pointed it at Felix. He stared at me, the blade just inches from his throat. “Are you going to stop me?”

He clicked his tongue and turned, leaving the tent without another word. I hurried to finish putting on my armor, sliding my cloak on last before hurrying outside.

There was an air of panic at the camp. Knights rushed back and forth gathering weapons and materials, and there were whispers echoing around us. If these rogues—these people leading the uprising—truly hated the church, then it was likely they would stop at nothing to wipe out the Knights of Seiros if we approached them.

The knights knew it, too. Even as we all rode on horseback to the village suspected of being the next target, I sensed some hesitance from those surrounding me. I remembered this feeling from back at the academy when my students expressed hesitation in one of our first battles together. All I wanted to do was protect them. And now, these knights… perhaps it was the first time for many of these youngsters that they would look death in the eyes.

When we arrived at the suspected site for the next attack, we found the village already burning. Voices screamed into the night. The smell of burning flesh hung in the air, and some of the knights around me began to vomit as soon as they dismounted their horses.

I swung my leg over the side of my horse and jumped down, the Sword of the Creator in my grip before my feet even touched the ground. Felix and Sylvain were by my side in seconds, and we three looked at the orange tinted darkness and formulated silent plans in our heads.

“This is a rescue first and foremost,” I said.

We and the knights charged into the village. I could hear the clanging of metal already, the grunts of men and women whose armor had been pierced, maybe even the slicing of throats. I splashed through a puddle of blood, but nothing registered in my mind to make _me_ hesitate.

A young woman stood over a middle-aged man. I noticed the sparkle of a gold belt buckle gleaming against the light of the flames. The girl must have noticed me out of the corner of her eye because she yanked a dagger out of a small sheath and slit the throat of the man without first toying with him, as the other bodies seemed to indicate happened first. I heard his last breath—strained, guttural, choked.

I thought the woman would come for me next. She stood and looked me over, her gaze lingering on the Sword of the Creator in my hand. And then, as quickly as this all began, she turned and ran. I chased after her, turning the corner so sharply that my ankle gave out, but I kept going through the pain.

She vanished. I stopped my pursuit, spinning slowly around to search for possible routes she could have taken. The flames poured out of windows, smoke so thick in the air now that I could barely see five feet in front of me. I looked down at my sleeve, flapping quietly in the breeze that only made the flames worse, and considered my options for a moment.

I used the Sword of the Creator to rip my sleeve off my cloak and wrapped the fabric around my nose and mouth. The smoke would still get to me, I was sure, but at least this might slow the process down.

The pursuit began again. I ran through one of two openings between flames, leading me to an alleyway between some of the burning villagers’ homes. The houses were almost completely engulfed in flames. Fire shot out of roofs, out of windows, through holes where the flame completely disintegrated the wooden beams. It reminded me of the Valley of Torment.

“The Sword of the Creator…” a voice somewhere in the smoke in front of me said. I could make out a figure approaching me. “Green hair…” No, two figures. “Green eyes…” Three or four?

I grasped the Sword of the Creator in both my hands, lifting it in front of me as my eyes spotted a whole crowd breaking through the smoke. There had to be a dozen people. They were ordinary looking folk, perhaps just regular villagers who had enough and wanted change. What was it that Dimitri said to me once? Were we to destroy what we found unacceptable or accept it?

These people, it seemed, sought to destroy it.

“The archbishop herself came to fight.” A man, large and burly, not unlike my father, stepped to the forefront of the group of a dozen. He touched the tip of my sword with his own, and I swung at him. He dodged, stepping back with a burst of deep laughter. “Her Majesty the Queen. The ruler of church and state. What a corrupt world in which we live.”

I wanted to tell them that I was nothing more than a figurehead on both fronts, but something told me these were not people who wanted political discussions as negotiations. There was no choice.

Suddenly, a wave of dizziness hit again. But I shook it off, blinking it away like the grogginess from my nap.

The Sword of the Creator glowed red, and I launched its extension towards the group. The battle began. I parried attacks from all sides, hitting away gleaming swords with my metal vambrace while simultaneously whipping the Sword of the Creator around me. I had never been good at dancing, but this reminded me a bit of my first dance with Claude at the Officers’ Academy. Back and forth, back and forth, one step to the right, back to the left.

My sword pierced the skin of one and then two, but I could tell I would never keep this up. My skin burned where one of the enemy’s swords grazed my leg, and the smoke stung my eyes.

My heel hit the body of one of the men I had gotten, and I stumbled backwards onto the ground. The Sword of the Creator fell out of my hands and clattered four feet away.

The large man, who must have been the leader, held his hand up, and the others ceased their assault. He walked towards me, stepping over the body and standing directly in front of me. Like me, he also had a piece of cloth over his face, so the only part of him I could see was his eyes. Brown, I thought. It was hard to tell in the light of the flames.

“You’re outmatched. You’ve always been outmatched. The Church of Seiros will fall, and we will be free from their control,” he whispered to me.

He held his sword above my abdomen, and I closed my eyes as he forced the blade down. But the bite of steel never touched me. There was an explosion somewhere above me, and when I opened my eyes, the orange light of fire was replaced with a purple cloud, and the man who stood over me had flown back into the crowd of his followers.

Another ball of purple magic shot from behind me to the group, and the explosion this time was deafening. Bodies erupted into the air, falling back like rain into heaps on the ground.

I sat up and looked behind me. There stood a man cloaked in dark garments with his arm outstretched in the direction he shot the magic. The skin of his face looked stretched and gray, as if he was deathly ill. He lowered his hand and looked down at me.

“We need you alive,” he told me.

I furrowed my brow, about to ask what he meant, when he disappeared altogether.

Pushing myself to my feet, I turned my attention back to the enemy in front of me. They were all dead. Every single body burned with dark welts on their exposed skin that crackled and ate the flesh. Whatever and whoever that was… that had been dark magic.

But who…

I didn’t have the luxury of time to think about it. I returned to the main street of the village and continued my work, freeing trapped villagers and crossing blades with remnants of the uprising. But I couldn’t help but feel like someone was watching me now.

And suddenly I remembered—remembered when I last felt this way, this dizziness and this uncertainty.

Remire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At long last. I wish I had more time to write during the week, but alas. Enjoy, and please consider leaving a comment/review. It is greatly appreciated.


	5. History Repeats

**Chapter Five – History Repeats**

We remained in Hrym for an additional couple of weeks taking care of the lingering rogues and helping tear down the burned remains. By the time Felix, Sylvain, and I climbed on horseback to return home, most villages had some semblance of recovery in their future. Houses began the rebuild process, and the threat no longer posed a problem.

“Your Grace.” One of the citizens we rescued from a burning village approached me and handed me a woven bag. A young girl clung to her leg behind her, peering at me with large green eyes. “It isn’t much, but I hope you know that we are grateful to you. May the goddess bless you.”

“You as well,” I said with a smile. The mother bowed, then encouraged her daughter to do the same before walking away.

Inside the bag were bundles of carrots. Considering how little these people had now, the gesture was beyond kind. It seemed many could barely feed themselves before… and now… well, I lived in relative extravagance back at the manor. These carrots were not life or death for me as they might be for some here.

I gestured for one of the Knights of Seiros to come over once the mother and daughter were out of sight and leaned down from my horse. “Please see to it that these are used in a meal for the villagers,” I told him. He took the bag and bowed, and I watched as he set it down in the provisions tent.

“Not going to eat your vegetables, Professor?” Sylvain asked.

I shook my head. “Don’t tell Dimitri.”

Sylvain laughed, and even Felix managed a little smile. After these few solemn weeks, it was nice to joke around a little. It felt like so long since I heard Sylvain make one of his idiotic quips—at least to me. I knew he snuck out of the tent at night to go gallivanting with girls because Felix told me as much, but Sylvain hadn’t made any inappropriate comments to me lately.

The moments like these I wanted to last forever. To be with friends and laugh and joke. My father would be astounded.

We began our ride back to Garreg Mach, keeping our word to Cyril that we would return on route back to the capital. The morning dew helped settle some of the lingering smoldering, but it set a chill in the air, too, that felt unfamiliar after days in the flames. The further away we rode, the cooler it got.

The mountains to the north proved less problematic than the Oghma range, and we were able to make it in good time to the peak of the hills outside of Hrym. We rested at the top and hopped off our horses to look at the view. From this vantage point, the damage to the Hrym region appeared worse than I thought. Charred black splotches painted the view below us like some horrific disease on the land. Every village in sight save for a few had been burned to the ground.

“What is that?”

I followed Felix’s finger to the sky above. It was no bird or wyvern or Pegasus like I might have expected to see in the sky. No, whatever it was, it reminded me of a spear of some sort—but if it was, it would have to be gigantic. It hurtled through the air down towards the earth below, traveling faster than anything I had ever seen before.

It whirred by, and rings of light formed around it. I followed the path of the rings with my gaze, watching as the rings set the path directly into the area we just abandoned.

“What—”

I could not even get my sentence out before the giant object collided where the rings stopped at the ground, and an eruption unlike anything I ever saw burst upon collision. The blast echoed through us so that my ears began to ring, and the explosion bubbled like a mushroom cap in the expanse below us. I shielded my eyes from the light of it with my hand, looking only again once normal daylight resumed.

Turning back time would not prevent the destruction revealed before us. There was nothing I could do to stop that… that javelin of light. Time would not allow me to go far enough back to evacuate all the villages of Hrym that would be destroyed right in front of me. So, it was all we could do to watch hundreds of people die. There was not even ash from the fires left when the light subsided. The world there had been reduced to a pile of flames and rock. Everything in the valley outside the mountains, gone.

“What… what _was_ that?” Sylvain’s voice cracked.

“Look at it… it’s just… nothing is left.” I had never seen such emotion on Felix’s face before, aside from his usual annoyance or amusement. His jaw slackened as he surveyed the damage in front of us, his gaze flitting back and forth across the scene. “We were just there.”

“We have to go back,” I said, turning and hurrying back over to my horse. I just put one foot into the stirrup when a hand closed around my wrist. “Let go, Sylvain. We have to check for survivors.”

“No one could have survived that, Professor,” he responded solemnly. “But we don’t know if there is another one of those things coming. It could be dangerous. Frankly, I think we need to get out of here and report back home with what we just saw. Whatever that…” He paused, glancing back over his shoulder at the remnants of the villages we just tried to save. “Whatever that was, that wasn’t just some simple uprising.”

Did we have something bigger on our hands? I hated to agree with Sylvain, for fear of believing that this was the beginning of another war, but there was no way that something like that could have been put together by some rogue villagers hoping to cause a stir. Who could have possibly had the resources to create something like that? The gods?

The Valley of Torment. Ailell. Hadn’t the legend gone that the goddess passed judgment on humanity there by sending down a pillar of light from the heavens? That was what Gustave once told us when we met Rodrigue’s forces there during the war. That was what this looked like.

But… essentially, _I _was the goddess. I didn’t do that.

No, this was something else, which meant that the legend of Ailell could be a farce, as well, like many of the legends of old.

There was no time to dissect the stories from the church now. We had to take action, do something, find out who was responsible for this.

Sylvain released my wrist, and I bit my lip, turning back to my horse and putting my hands on the saddle. He would let me do what I felt was right. All those Knights of Seiros down there… those innocent villagers… none of them survived.

Only we lived.

_We need you alive_.

I shook the voice out of my head and hopped up on my horse’s back. “We make for Garreg Mach,” I told the boys. “We need to inform Seteth of this so he can start an investigation. And then we go back home, tell Dimitri about this, and get the go ahead for deploying both the church’s army _and_ Fódlan’s army. We need to find out who did this to prevent it from happening again.”

It pained me to turn my back on Hrym territory. But we had no choice.

We pushed our horses harder than we should have, so by the time we made it back to Garreg Mach, their maximum speed was no more than a trot. Cyril was not here to greet us this time, so we led ourselves to the stables and tied our horses up near the water trough.

Several students still wandered around the monastery, and whispers followed us as we made our way to the audience chamber. I told Cyril I wanted to speak with some of the students, but… now…

“Professor? Why, it is you!” a soft voice cried from a table nearby on our walk down the corridors.

“Mercedes! Looking beautiful as ever,” Sylvain greeted.

“Good evening, Mercedes,” I said. The woman stood up and bowed at us before walking over to join our small group. She had grown her hair out quite a bit since I last saw her, though it still wasn’t nearly as long as it was when we first met. “Do you know if Seteth is upstairs? We need to speak with him urgently.”

“I apologize for our professor’s poor manners,” Sylvain said, stepping in front of me and grabbing Mercedes’s hand. “Don’t let her frazzled demeanor get to you. The professor is glad to see you, I assure you. But we were just witness to something rather horrific and we need to report it.”

“Oh my…” Mercedes put a hand to her cheek and tilted her head, looking at me with concern in her eyes. She always reminded me a little bit of a mother, not that I had much experience with what that felt like. “I won’t keep you then. We can reconnect another time. I’ll be in the cathedral saying a pray for you should you need me. Oh, and Seteth is in his office, last I saw.”

I smiled at her and nodded. “Thank you, Mercedes.”

She had been correct; Seteth was in his office. He was bent over some paperwork at his desk, but he had a smile on his face as though he enjoyed it. Perhaps he actually worked on his fables at this hour when he suspected no one might interrupt. I had the pleasure of reading one once about Saint Macuil.

“Sorry to bother you, Seteth.” I stopped in front of his desk, and he looked up from his writing.

“Welcome back, Lady Byleth.” He stood and bowed to me. Considering where I started in this relationship, I felt I ought to bow to him, too. “How did your campaign go in the Hrym region?”

“The former Hrym region, you ought to say.”

Seteth turned to Felix and crossed his arms. “I am afraid I do not understand.”

“We stopped the rogues participating in the uprising,” I explained. “But when we were leaving this morning, something fell from the sky… like a javelin but surrounded by rings of light. And when it connected with the earth, it exploded, and…” My hands shook, so I curled my fingers into my palms. “Hrym no longer exists. It’s another Valley of Torment.”

“_What?_” Seteth hissed. “This is… we need to inform Rhea immediately.”

Rhea. How long had it been since I saw her? When she relinquished the title of archbishop to me, she removed herself from the playing field entirely. Her recovery from her captivity in Enbarr progressed so slowly that those around her doubted she would ever improve. Most days during her recovery she spent in her room without visitors, save for Seteth or Flayn. Now, years later, she and Catherine lived far away from here reveling in the peace the new Fódlan brought.

It was months after her rescue that she finally called me in to tell me the truth of everything surrounding the church—though, perhaps, not everything. I suspected all along that she kept more secrets than told truths, but I never cared much about my own history. There was no need to learn all hers.

Still, I knew now that she was Seiros herself and that Seteth and Flayn were Cichol and Cethleann, all children of Sothis. And the role of the King of Liberation? Fabricated into something more positive. My Sword of the Creator was not gifted to him but taken from the remains of Sothis herself. All stories recreated to make the goddess sound omnipotent.

Yet still, I was expected to preach the stories of the church that we mortals knew and loved. I understood, of course, and I respected Rhea all the same. It was just harder to spread lies when you already knew the truth, even when it was for the best.

“I don’t think that’s necessary,” I said. “She doesn’t need to get involved in this after all she has been through.”

Seteth’s face contorted slightly, as though he was fighting some internal battle that his logic was beginning to lose. “There is still much you do not understand, through no fault of your own. Ailell… was no consequence of the goddess’s rage. The pillar of light said to have fallen on it was the work of someone outside the church.”

Felix and Sylvain, on either side of me, exchanged a glance, but neither spoke.

“I figured as much,” I admitted. “Considering that I hold all Sothis’s power, and I had nothing to do with the javelins of light, I wondered if Ailell was something else, too. So, the question remains… what was it?”

Seteth walked around us to his office door and shut it. He lingered by the door, one hand still on the doorknob. “Have you heard of Agartha?”

“Agartha?” I repeated.

He removed his hand from the doorknob and looked back at the three of us. “The children of the goddess, the Nabateans, were not the only ones who benefitted from the protection of the Goddess. The Nabateans coexisted with another group called the Agarthans. They shared all their wisdom and secrets, until the Agarthans decided it was not enough. They advanced their technology beyond what the Nabateans created and eventually sought to rule even the goddess herself.”

“That couldn’t have gone over well,” Sylvain said, and Seteth nodded at him.

“Indeed. Seiros fought with the Agarthans and defeated them, but in the process, the land was so ravaged that the Goddess had to return to Zanado to heal after returning it to its former glory,” he explained. “And that was when Nemesis killed the progenitor god, while at her weakest following the conflict with the Agarthans.”

And that was when the Sword of the Creator was forged from her remains. Following the slaughtering of the Nabateans at Zanado, the other Heroes’ Relics were created. Save for the people highest in the church, no one knew this. Felix and his Aegis Shield, Sylvain and his Lance of Ruin. They knew not what they held: the bones of the children of the goddess.

“What does this have to do with what we saw in Hrym?” Felix asked. His tone was short, clipped not out of disrespect but out of genuine confusion. He reacted like that in class all those years ago, too.

Seteth, too, knew much about Felix’s rather hard personality, so he did not skip a beat in responding. “The Agarthans were responsible for what happened to Ailell. It _was_ something similar to a pillar of light, but one might compare it more to a weapon falling from the sky… perhaps like a javelin of light?”

“You said they were defeated by Seiros,” Sylvain pointed out.

“They were. Most of them,” Seteth clarified. “And the rest, well… they were never heard from again. They retreated and were thought to be extinct from this world. But perhaps not.”

It was starting to come together. The Agarthans, fed up with the rule of the Goddess, tried to overtake her. Seiros defeated them, causing them to flee somewhere. And all this time, all these many years, were they just biding their time until they finally could seek revenge on the Goddess?

Except… that man… who needed me alive…

No, it couldn’t be connected. It was clear he knew who I was. If he was related to the Agarthans somehow, then he would have wanted me dead.

Was it no coincidence that the javelin of light fell only _after_ I left Hrym, then?

“Why now? If they’ve been around all this time, why now and why Hrym?” I asked.

Seteth looked suddenly uncomfortable, as if hiding something that I just exposed. He was part of the secrets of the church, mostly for his own protection and for Flayn’s, so it wasn’t as if he always told the truth. But if anything, Seteth only kept secrets about his past, not much more than that.

“Do you recall Tomas? Monica?”

I had no heartbeat, but I could have sworn I felt it for a moment. I put a hand to my forehead as dizziness suddenly set in again, but this time it passed quickly. “Solon and Kronya…” I whispered.

The war… the destruction of Remire, my banishment from this realm of the earth to that which only a god could escape, those mages in the Imperial Army…

“Don’t tell Rhea,” I told Seteth again. “Do not get her involved. They’ll kill her.”

Seteth didn’t agree. I could tell by the look in his eyes, the way his brow furrowed, the hesitance in his willingness to trust me once again. He would do anything to protect his only remaining family, but then again, Rhea knew how to fight the Agarthans. Still, we could not risk letting her fall.

“And you?” He was not one for physical contact, but he reached out and touched my arm. Was this the first time? “They will kill you, too Your Grace.”

I stepped out of his reach and avoided his gaze. The image of the man saving me from the rogues flashed in my mind again. “I wonder…”

“Byleth?”

Just my name? Seteth was concerned. Had I said too much?

“In any case,” I said, looking around the room at the men surrounding me, “we need to inform Dimitri about this. If this is bigger than just Hrym, we need to start preparing an army to take out the Agarthans.”

“You return to the capital,” Seteth agreed. “With your permission, I will begin mobilizing church troops to investigate any suspicious activity in the surrounding areas similar to the events in Hrym. If I hear anything, I will send a messenger to you immediately.”

I nodded. “Please do.”

What else did Seteth know? What else was connected to this disaster? Like the war, what else had the Agarthans put their tainted hands on?

“Felix, Sylvain.” Seteth addressed my former students now, and both boys stood taller beside me. “Ensure that your professor makes it back to the capital safely.”

Felix rolled his eyes, and Sylvain grinned, surely thinking something inappropriate. But once their initial reactions passed, I noticed that they had both taken a subtle step closer to me.

Except… I wasn’t worried about myself. I had a feeling I was safe—for now.

No, I would have to make sure it was the other way around. I needed to protect those around me. Because if I didn’t, there would be no one left to prevent another tragedy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember when there was fluff just a few chapters ago? Ah, how long ago that seems.


	6. Cornered

**Chapter Six – Cornered**

How long had the Agarthans been manipulating things from behind the scenes? Solon and Kronya couldn’t have been the only ones, but they certainly were the ones escalating feelings of disdain and distrust between the Kingdom, Alliance, and Empire. I remembered Edelgard, as the Flame Emperor, saying that she had nothing to do with the events in Remire, but that she _was_ conspiring with Solon. Just how far back did that go?

And how far did they get into their own agenda?

Considering that the Kingdom and the Church of Seiros turned out victorious in the war, it couldn’t have gone the way they wanted. Rhea survived, I became the new archbishop, and Edelgard fell. Revenge was unable to be taken on the Church of Seiros and the goddess during the war.

How many others, though, had been hidden in plain sight like Solon as Tomas and Kronya as Monica? I had to imagine there were more of them. Did we kill some of them during the war without knowing it? Is that why they had been silent for the past six years? They just needed to bide their time to recover what they lost, to become the former glory they had been, and now?

But if their aim was to get revenge on Sothis and all those connected to her… why would they let me live?

Unless they didn’t mean to… maybe that man who saved me was uninvolved in the work of the Agarthans. Maybe it was a coincidence that we left Hrym when the javelin of light fell. They could have meant to drop it while I was still there, and their timing was just wrong.

Something about this, beyond the obvious, felt off to me.

And where to start? The Agarthans went unnoticed for hundreds of years until _they_ decided on their own terms to make themselves known—and even then, they blended in like the rest of us. The move they made now… it was so we would pay attention.

So, where were they?

Hopefully Seteth’s investigation would bring something to light. Still, it was a little nerve-racking. We lost nearly fifty knights in Hrym, a major blow to an organization struggling to begin with. How was I ever going to explain this to the cardinals?

And this damn headache…

I wanted to climb into bed when I got home, to walk past all my obligations and throw my head into my pillow. I realized the futility of this idea, yet all the same, I fantasized all the way back to the mountains of a restful night’s sleep.

Our arrival did not go unnoticed. Against my better judgment, I sent Cyril ahead on his wyvern to warn Dimitri of the losses in Hrym. Thus, Felix, Sylvain, and I were greeted by the entirety of the manor’s staff and security, with the king himself at the front of the pack with Dedue and Gustave by his side.

Dimitri left barely a moment for me to dismount from my horse before he was beside me. My body went rigid at first when he pulled me against him, a forbidden embrace that surely garnered the attention of everyone around us. But I melted into him as soon as I smelled his familiar scent, and I wrapped my arms under his and buried my head into his chest.

Such affection in public was taboo enough, but he shocked me further by lifting my chin with his fingers and kissing me. It was desperate, hungry, and it took everything in my power to stop myself from letting it evolve into something more passionate. I moved my hands to his chest and pushed him gently away, and he put his forehead against mine with a sigh.

“It could’ve been you,” he whispered. “It could’ve been you.”

* * *

It felt wrong to sit at the dinner table and enjoy a meal as a family after all that happened. I picked at my meal with my fork, pushing the meat into the vegetables and knocking one off my plate and onto the floor. Dani, our dog, came scampering over and sniffed the carrot before deciding it wasn’t what he wanted from my plate.

We had an explicit rule to avoid discussing politics or religion at the dinner table, especially with the kids around. But all I wanted to do right now was get back into our meetings. We had been discussing strategy all day to no avail. It seemed there wasn’t much we could do right now when we knew nothing about our enemy or where they were. All we could do was wait to hear from Seteth.

“Mommy, Uncle Claude taught me how to use a bow,” Alexi announced proudly. I mustered a smile for him.

“Really? Are you going to be an archer now?”

“I have to say, he was quite impressive. He’s a better shot than I am already,” Dimitri told me. Alexi absolutely beamed. To get praise from his father was a treat like no other. “And Claude’s wyvern took a liking to him, too. I fear we may lose our son to the Almyrans.”

“Uncle Claude said I could go stay with him next moon if you said so.” Alexi clasped his hands together and stuck out his lower lip. “And he said Auntie Hilda wants to see Katrina because she hasn’t yet, so he said Katrina could come with me.”

My gut reaction as a mother was to say no. Alexi, barely five years old, and Katrina, just two, had been without their parents before, but they had never been away from home without us. That was different. I could only imagine the sort of disaster that would unfold. Claude and Hilda had no children, which was all well and good. It was hard for me to imagine them as parents. Hell, it was still hard for me to imagine Dimitri and myself as parents, and we had been for years.

But for those two—_especially_ those two—to take care of my children? I’d sooner leave them with Seteth and let poor Alexi and Katrina be bored to death.

“Well, actually… that might not be a bad idea…” I muttered, and Dimitri raised an eyebrow. I put my fork down and folded my hands together. “Maybe we should get them out of Fódlan for a while. The Agarthans have a problem with the church, and therefore with Fódlan, not with Almyra. They’ll be safer there than here.”

“You want to leave them with Claude?” Ah, so he was as skeptical of the idea as me. “Dedue could always take them to Duscur,” Dimitri offered instead.

Alexi looked back and forth between his father and me, hope still in his eyes. Katrina was oblivious to it all as she played with her doll.

“Dedue is going to want to be here for you if this situation escalates. You know that. If we want to get them out of here, I think Claude is our only option. Our relations aren’t good enough with Brigid to send them with someone there. Shamir is the only one we know well enough from Dagda, and we haven’t heard from her in years. At least we know we can trust Claude and Hilda, even if we can’t always trust their judgment. We need to send them.”

Alexi pulled his legs up onto the chair and balanced on his knees. “Is that a yes, Mommy?”

I shot a look at Dimitri. The last time he let one of his family members out of his sight, look what happened. I almost didn’t make it back. I knew why he hesitated. But the whole point of this was to keep our kids safe, not to put them into danger.

He nodded, and I turned to smile at Alexi. “Yes, Alexi. You can stay with Uncle Claude. Mommy and Daddy just need to talk to him about when, okay?”

“Tomorrow!” Katrina shouted. I didn’t think she had been listening. Katrina was sneaky like that.

“No, not tomorrow. They’re going to need time to get things ready,” Dimitri told her. She stuck her lower lip out and crossed her arms, but luckily no tears came.

I wondered what my father felt every time he put me into danger. Because the idea of my children getting hurt scared me—terribly. But I grew up living a mercenary’s life. I fought my first battle probably before I could remember. I certainly had no memories from before, when he must have left me at camp. My first kill? Probably well before I turned ten, if I had to estimate my age.

So, what did he feel? What was it like for him?

I didn’t _want_ to send my children away. It was like some looming darkness over my shoulder and breathing into my ear. What kind of mother was I to send my kids away? What would happen if I went into this battle, if Dimitri went into this battle, and neither of us returned? Was Dimitri’s upbringing one he would wish on our own kids?

Suddenly my stomach churned. I grabbed a piece of meat off my plate and dropped it to the floor for Dani to eat.

“Katrina, eat your vegetables,” Dimitri told our daughter.

She picked up a carrot and glared at it. “I don’t like carrots.”

I thought of the woman with the daughter clinging to her leg who gave me the bag of carrots. The bag of carrots that got no use because I gave them back to the villagers. The woman who was murdered, the daughter who could not be much older than my own without a life to live.

Yes, I needed to protect my children, even if that meant not seeing them for quite some time.

“You know what?” I picked up one of the carrots on my plate and held it the same way Katrina did, between my thumb and index finger as though poisonous. “I don’t feel like eating my vegetables today either.”

* * *

Dimitri wrapped his arms around me that night in bed, after a continuation and escalation of that desperate kiss from this morning, and held me so tightly that I feared my ribs might crack. It was comforting having him here with me, though. Something still felt… off. Me, this situation, all of it.

For once, Dimitri fell fast asleep long before me. I snuck out of his arms without him noticing, threw on some clothes, and crept past the dog. No one disturbed me in the hall this time as I took a peek into the rooms of Alexi and Katrina. I continued walking in bare feet all the way outside where the crisp fall air nipped at my exposed skin.

There was no one in the manor knights’ hall at this hour, but Dimitri would know where to find me if he awoke to find me gone. For the first few minutes of my presence there, I did nothing but rub dirt into my hands, despite having been satisfied with the feeling within thirty seconds. It helped the calluses, especially the ones that reopened this past month.

Some part of me hoped and waited for Dimitri to wake up and come to me. Maybe that was why I stood there rubbing my hands back and forth. I caught myself glancing back at the door a couple of times, so perhaps it was time to admit it.

Finally, I grabbed a sword from the rack of dull training weapons and got to work. The movements, which took some practice to get back into, came naturally to me now. I decapitated several dummies before working on their torsos.

My father always told me that it was dangerous to picture someone’s face on those training dummies, which seemed contrary to the training of some of my students. Picturing someone encouraged feelings—which could go one of two ways. Emotions could lead to bursts of energy and adrenaline, increasing power but decreasing accuracy. I knew that all those years ago Dimitri used to picture Edelgard’s head on those dummies. And what did that get him? He was wild, reckless.

No, the solution was to accept the dummies as they were, to not attach a soul to a lifeless doll. It meant control. In all situations, I maintained that control and viewed all my enemies as mere dummies—all just someone to cut down, never someone to eliminate for personal vendettas.

It worked here, anyway. I knew not who to picture, even if I could. Solon? Kronya? Those fiends were long dead. I had nothing against them now.

It was just as I thought this that I felt a chill run down my spine. I turned, sword clenched in my hands in front of me, though hope surged through me momentarily that it was Dimitri.

The man who saved me in Hrym sat, legs crossed, elbow propped on his knees, on _top_ of the wooden weapon rack, perched as if he bore no weight at all. At least I thought it was the same man. The light was better here than in the flames of the burning village. His skin still looked weird, but I could see his eyes now, though they differed only slightly from midnight. Despite his sickly demeanor and exterior, he gave the impression he was just a young adult.

“Such a pity, what happened to Hrym.” His voice, I noticed this time, was husky but eerily calm. It was the same voice from Hrym, I knew it, yet it sounded so different. “So many lives lost. And for what?”

_Indeed_, I thought too, but I said nothing. It seemed better not to engage right now. I could only grip my training sword, this nearly useless thing, and hope that he made no move.

I ought to question how he got here or how he knew I would be here, but I had an idea without needing to ask. How long had he been following me, I wondered?

“I did not come to fight you. You can put _that_ down.” He nodded his head towards the sword I held, but that only made me more suspicious. “You do realize that I saved your life in Hrym, do you not? You should show more respect to your savior.”

“Apologies, but I’m a little on edge right now given all that happened,” I retorted.

The man’s lips flickered, as if about to smile, but he managed to remain stoic. “I told you. We need you alive.”

“So, you _are_ part of the people responsible for what happened.” I lifted the sword so that the tip was eye-level with the man. “The Agarthans?”

He reached out and pushed the sword away. Even as I tried to hold it firm, it made no impact of him. The blade was too dull for that, and he knew it.

“I’m surprised you’ve heard of us. The remaining Nabateans have been long fond of their secrets and rewriting history to suit their needs.” He jumped down from his perch on top of the weapon rack and pushed my sword all the way down. “You realize that almost the entirety of the church is built on lies? Seiros may have thought she fooled us, but we’ve been watching and biding our time.”

“You killed innocent people. Thousands of them. You manipulated the events behind the war. Edelgard _wasn’t_ involved in the events in Remire, was she?” I remembered what she said while disguised as the Flame Emperor. “She said she wasn’t, and we didn’t believe her. But she and the Agarthans were just using each other, isn’t that true? You to destroy the church and to hold your experiments like in Remire, and she for the Empire.”

“You make it sound so awful.”

The man turned away from me and began walking, a sure sign that he doubted that I would hurt him. And if it had been anyone else, I might have fallen for that. But I dropped my sword and summoned a ball of fire to launch at him. But when it reached the spot he should have been, he was gone.

He reappeared behind me this time, grabbing and twisting my arms behind my back. He kicked his foot into the hollow behind my knee, and I buckled to the floor.

Still, I could use this to my advantage. He thought he had me, and I would let him think that for a moment.

“Allow me to set the record straight, _Sothis_,” he whispered in my ear. “You are alive at this very second because we need you alive. Had the war gone differently, you would be dead without so much as a thought. We had to repair all that you damaged, recover from the losses of our leaders. But we are ready again. Fódlan, as you know it, will crumble.”

I rolled forward while he still held my arms, pulling the man over me and pinning him below me. He pulled a dagger from his sleeve, and I hopped off him and triggered a Bolganone spell. The floor around us splintered, and fire poured up from the cracks, surrounding him and separating him from me.

My magic was not infinite and not nearly as powerful as Lysithea’s. I could hold him off temporarily, but without a decent weapon, this was futile. I shot all the magic I knew, but he waved off each attack as if all I did was send a little breeze his way.

The only advantage I had in this fight was that I knew he needed me alive. He couldn’t attack me back. So, if I could at least wear him out and capture him…

“What is going _on_ in here?” a voice called from outside.

And just like that, the man vanished. I knew he wasn’t far away. He needed me for something—not just needed me alive but needed _me_. I didn’t know what he wanted exactly, but it was clear that I played a role in the grand plan of the Agarthans. And considering their experiments in Remire, I didn’t like the sound of that.

“Professor?”

A familiar face opened the door and looked inside. Ingrid, another former student of mine and now personal knight to the king, tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Because of the peace we enjoyed, her role became more or less that of a security guard. But it should have been no surprise to me that she was on edge now, given the events in Hrym.

“What was all that flashing?”

But then again, that fight gave me a hint, too. Because it reminded me of someone I hadn’t seen—or, admittedly, thought of—in the past few years. Someone who once told me of the strange mages who performed rituals on her family until she was the only one left—during the time that her household was under the influence of the Empire. It could be no coincidence.

It was true. My magic was not as powerful as Lysithea’s. But what if my blood was?

“They were here. Or, one of them was. He might still be.” I fell back to my knees on the floor, all the terrible things I knew could pass flashing through my mind. I could not turn back time enough to prevent all this from happening, so what happened now… I would need to watch carefully.

“Who, Professor? The Agarthans?” Ingrid demanded incredulously, as if she could not fathom how they snuck past her. She was hard on herself. She was probably questioning her worth as a knight right about now.

I nodded, placing my hands on my knees. My hands were red and raw. That happened sometimes when I used too much fire magic; the heat from the magic burned my skin.

“They need me alive, but at the same time they want me gone. They need me for something—probably my blood, if I had to guess.” I looked Ingrid in the eye as she stood over me. She looked like she was pitying me.

“Then why would they let you go?”

Twice, in fact. He let me walk away in Hrym. He let me walk away now. If he really needed me, if the Agarthans needed me, why was I still here?

“Because… they want me to come to them willingly…” I thought aloud. My hands curled into fists, burning skin stinging, and I pushed myself to my feet. “I want my family evacuated. They’re going to hurt them. They know I’ll go with them if they have the right leverage.”

Ingrid’s eyebrows furrowed until my words sunk in, and then her face lit up with realization. “I won’t let anything happen to them,” she guaranteed, though I knew words were cheap.

She turned on her heel and started to move, but I held her back: “Wait.”

“Professor?” She looked over her shoulder at me. She was all business now, serious as ever and ready to work.

“Do you remember Lysithea?”

Her hard gaze softened. “Of course I do.”

“They had the right leverage on her, too. I wish her life could have turned out differently. So many unnecessary lives lost at the Battle of Gronder Field…” I couldn’t remember who was responsible for her death. Who had I ordered to strike her down? All I knew was that her life had been cut shorter than it already was. “If she was here, do you think she would know what to do?”

Ingrid appeared confused. And why shouldn’t she, I supposed. Few of us knew about Lysithea’s past _or_ her two Crests.

“Why would she, Professor?”

I nodded. “Right. Sorry.”

“Excuse me, Professor. Your family will be in safe hands.” Ingrid bowed and exited the room, leaving me alone. And yet—was I?

I knew not where to start. But the one thing I was certain of was that I didn’t need to chase the Agarthans down. They would come to me. Which meant that, if I wanted to defeat them before they hurt anyone else, I needed just one thing.

A scheme.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A couple of you suggested Lysithea would be the optimal choice for targeting TWSITD. But she was one of the casualties from the Battle of Gronder Field. Luckily, though, she still kinda plays a role here, helping Byleth realize what TWSITD might be up to!


	7. The Schemer

**Chapter Seven – The Schemer**

Claude von Riegan had a lot going for him. He was handsome, charismatic, and a better leader to Almyra than he had been to the Alliance. But more than anything, that brain of his was a tool like none other, one that I wanted to exploit for what was possibly becoming a new war.

“You mean I have to watch them? By myself?” Hilda asked, staring down at my kids as though they were venomous. I knew she loved Alexi from the moment she first met him, and she had already taken a shine to Katrina. Those two girls were so similar, it was scary. But even I would admit that the prospect of watching both of them by myself was a little… much.

“Nader will be around to help,” Claude pointed out, which didn’t appear to placate Hilda any.

“But what if I wanted to help you out and get my hands dirty, and now I’m stuck on babysitting duty?” she asked. Dimitri, Claude, and I exchanged a look, and the men burst out laughing.

“When have you wanted to get _anything_ dirty?” Claude quipped.

“Fine.” Hilda sighed, reached down, and picked up Katrina. The two stared at each other for a moment before Katrina grabbed a lock of Hilda’s bright pink hair and yanked.

I might have been the vessel of The Beginning, but I could see exactly how this would end.

Still, my kids were better off going to Almyra than staying in Fódlan, and I trusted Hilda—and, more importantly, Nader, who I had only ever met twice—to keep them safe. I was sure that the Agarthans didn’t want to start anything with the Almyrans by attacking there, so I figured they would be fine there.

Of course, I knew I wouldn’t be able to convince Dimitri to stay behind here at Claude’s home in Almyra, too. He laughed at me when I told him what I figured out about the Agarthans plans and wanted him to go with the kids. “I would like to see them try to use me as leverage to get to you,” he had said.

I didn’t agree, but I also couldn’t disagree. He was a grown man and could make his own decisions, even if I thought them stupid.

“But I wanted to play with Uncle Claude…” Alexi whined now, grabbing onto my hand and pulling, as if doing this would change my mind.

“You’re going to hurt Auntie Hilda’s feelings if you say that,” I warned.

Hilda, though, simply scoffed, “Oh no. I wanted to play with Uncle Claude, too.”

“Think of it like this.” Claude knelt down so he was at eye-level with Alexi, and Alexi dropped my hand to grab onto Claude’s knees. “You got to spend a whole week with me just recently, didn’t you? Your mommy… she didn’t get to play with me. Don’t you think that’s unfair?”

Alexi nodded, but not without a pout.

“And your Aunt Hilda, she didn’t get to spend any time with you or Katrina. Don’t you think _that’s_ unfair?” Claude continued. Alexi nodded again. “Now, I know your mommy and daddy taught you all about fair and unfair. So, how do we make it fair?”

Alexi’s brows furrowed as he thought about it. “If…” he began, moving his hands from Claude’s knees to the sides of his own face. “If Mommy gets to play with you for a little while, and me and Katrina play with Auntie Hilda for a bit.”

Aha. They didn’t call Claude the Master Tactician for nothing.

Hilda set Katrina down with a smile. Even she couldn’t be frustrated listening to that cuteness.

Katrina hurried on her tiny legs to Claude and launched herself over his back, and he picked her up with one hand around her leg and the other around her arm. The two swung around, and my daughter cackled with laughter. To anyone watching, no one would have suspected anything was the matter. No one would have imagined that I had to say goodbye to my kids for an indefinite period of time, not knowing when or if I would ever see them again.

I held my arms out, and Claude stopped spinning and passed Katrina to me. Dimitri knelt next to Alexi and was whispering something to him. Alexi nodded with wide eyes, as if understanding everything with perfect clarity, even if it was well-beyond him.

I squeezed Katrina into my chest, and she giggled. “Too tight, Mommy!”

“I’m just going to miss you,” I told her, rubbing my nose against hers.

Alexi suddenly burst into tears, and Dimitri shot me a panicked look. Whatever he said to our son now hadn’t gone over well. The poor boy ran to me and clung to my leg.

“I don’t want to go!” he yelled, and I narrowed my eyes at Dimitri.

“You just said three days ago that you wanted to go to Almyra,” I reminded my son. He shook his head with his face still pressed against my skin.

I sighed, gesturing for Claude to grab him. He took him by the hand and walked around the room while I narrowed my eyes towards Dimitri.

“What did you just say to him?”

When he got embarrassed, Dimitri’s whole face went pink—and not just his face but his ears, too. That was the consequence of his fair skin. And he was currently completely pink. He knew he messed up.

“I just told him that he would need to take care of his sister while we were gone… and that we might not make it back, so he would have to step up and prepare to be king someday, but also realize that we would always be supporting him no matter what.”

He spoke so quickly that it took an extra second for all his words to register in my brain. And when they did, I still couldn’t quite believe what I heard.

“You… said all that? To a _five_-year-old?” I snapped, and Dimitri’s gaze no longer met mine. “And Alexi? You would’ve been better telling that to Katrina between the two of them.”

“I wish my father would’ve said that to me before Duscur,” Dimitri said softly.

I exhaled to keep myself from getting too worked up. _He’s your husband_, I told myself. _You love him dearly. You want him around._

“We’re coming back for them,” I assured him. Dimitri finally looked me in the eyes again, and I touched my fingers to his cheek.

Claude had calmed Alexi down by the time we walked back over. Hilda was braiding Katrina’s hair, telling her all about how the people in Almyra had a tradition with braided locks of hair that symbolized the warrior spirit. Little Katrina would be fine without us. But were something to happen, I _did_ worry about Alexi. He was sensitive. I knew Dimitri just wanted to protect him, to keep him from becoming a monster, and I was afraid, too. The only thing I could guarantee was that Alexi would not be witness to a tragedy if one did occur.

“I think we ought to leave while they’re both content,” I whispered to Dimitri, and he nodded.

“Katrina, Alexi,” Dimitri called. The two perked up at the sound of their father’s voice, and they ran over to us. Katrina’s braid was only half done, but it didn’t bother her any that it started to fall apart as she ran. “You two will be good for Aunt Hilda, won’t you? You’ll be kind to each other?”

“Yes, Daddy,” Alexi said while Katrina held her thumbs up.

“I love you both so much.” Dimitri sat on the marbled floor, which was perhaps unbecoming for a king, but when he pulled both of his children into his chest, he was no king, anyway. He was just a father who would miss his kids.

They stayed that way for nearly a minute before Dimitri loosened his grip on their heads and kissed them both on their foreheads. “Now go say goodbye to your mother.”

Alexi and Katrina darted for me, nearly knocking me over as they wrapped themselves around my legs. I managed to sit, too, without crushing them, and Alexi curled himself onto my lap while Katrina knelt in front of me with her tiny hands on my legs.

“If you need anything while you’re here, go to Nader, okay?” I told them. They looked confused for a moment and glanced over their shoulders at Hilda. “And make sure to eat your vegetables. Take your baths. Listen to what Aunt Hilda tells you. But not too much. Be sure to help out. If Aunt Hilda tells you that you don’t have to clean your rooms while you’re here, she’s wrong. You need to clean your rooms.”

“Mommy,” Katrina whined, and I ruffled her hair.

“I love you,” I said, and kissed their foreheads just like Dimitri did. Katrina immediately wiped it off, but I took no offense. “Be good.”

“I love you, Mommy. I love you, Daddy,” Alexi whimpered, his lip jutting out again as he began to cry once more. I lifted him off my lap and stood, ushering him towards Hilda.

“Auntie Hilda’s going to show you your rooms, okay? Be good!” I watched as Hilda grabbed their hands and began to walk away with them. Dimitri walked over to me and wrapped an arm around my shoulders as we stared at their retreating forms.

They disappeared around the corner, and I curled into Dimitri. “Are we doing the right thing?” I asked.

He leaned his cheek against my hair. “I hope so.”

“Aw, you two saps worry too much.” Claude stepped in front of us and grinned. I almost forgot he was still here, which was hard given that we were in _his_ castle. It had been ages since I’d been to Almyra, and it was never any less impressive than the last time.

Dimitri let go of me and took a small step away. He was always a little self-conscious when Claude was around, probably because the latter liked to poke fun at our relationship.

“Hilda may seem totally incompetent, but she’s only _slightly_ incompetent,” Claude told us.

“How reassuring,” Dimitri muttered under his breath.

“And so kind to say of your wife,” I added.

“Like I said, Nader will be around, and Judith is also going to be taking up residence here while I’m in Fódlan with you two. As long as your little cherubs are fed, they should be fine. There will be no shortage of protection here for them, anyway, that’s for sure,” Claude said, which actually did reassure me a little. I trusted Judith’s military judgment. If something _did_ happen, she could take care of things.

“Speaking of,” he continued. “Should we hit the road?”

Our visit to Almyra was strictly to deliver the kids. It looked less suspicious this way. Dimitri and I were just two parents dropping their kids off for a visit, and we would be returning home all in a day’s time. If the Almyran king and queen came to us instead and left with the royal prince and princess, it would look as if something was going on. No, things were better this way.

I never expected Claude to join us on the trip back, though. “I can’t get involved visibly,” he had said. “The Almyran people would lose their minds if they thought I was officially getting involved in Fódlan business. But I certainly can’t leave Teach to face some baddies on her own.”

So, he agreed to take a backseat role. He would join us in Fódlan, but he wouldn’t actually partake in the fighting. He would serve expressly as our tactician and come up with plenty of schemes for us to lure out the Agarthans without involving too much fighting. I doubt he would admit it, but I had a feeling he was excited for the thrill of testing out new schemes again.

We had the help of the church and the brains of Almyra, so I felt secure enough right now. But there was no time to talk shop before returning to Fódlan. Our wyverns flew as fast as their wings could go, but even so, we made it back under the midnight starry sky, far too late for an official war council meeting.

Instead, Dimitri poured each of us a glass of his finest liquor so we could hold one unofficially, and we three settled in front of the fireplace in the sitting room. I admitted I was still on edge after that man attacked me in my own home, and I was hesitant to speak aloud of our plans when I knew he was probably watching.

Still, I was hyper-aware now, and I felt pretty secure at the moment. The alcohol might have helped with that.

“What are you thinking, Claude?” I asked.

He smiled at me and downed the entirety of his drink in a single sip. “No time for pleasantries, eh, Teach?”

“It was a long flight, and I’m tired,” I told him.

“And worried?” he added.

The guy never changed. He always wanted to know _everything_.

“Just about Alexi and Katrina,” I clarified. “I know we’ll figure this part of it out. We always do.”

He grabbed the bottle of liquor from the little table beside us and poured his glass full. Dimitri, whose glass was not even empty yet, held his out for more. I sighed, watching the boys pour, and decided to hold my glass out, too. Claude, based on his smug smile, seemed pleased.

“On the count of three?” he offered. I rolled my eyes but did not object. “One… two… three.”

We each downed our overfilled glasses. The drink was bitter and burned on the way down. Ah. A pleasure we rarely indulged in. During the war, alcohol was expensive, and everyone hoarded their fill of it. Now, old habits died hard, and we continued to save it almost exclusively for special occasions.

And I supposed this was special enough.

A pleasant side effect was that Dimitri slept like a baby every time he got the slightest bit tipsy. So even if he couldn’t enjoy the taste of it, at least he could enjoy the buzz.

Claude filled our glasses again, but we didn’t throw them back immediately this time. He swirled his in his glass, watching the amber whirlpool settle when he set it back down on the floor beside him.

“It would be suspicious if you handed yourself over to them now, especially after sending your kids away. The way it _looks_ now, you’re preparing for risk—so just going in and surrendering wouldn’t make sense. But,” he held up a hand to stop me from saying anything, even though I wasn’t going to, “if they need you, they can have you.”

Dimitri drank from his glass again. “I don’t like it.”

“Obviously, but you’re not the target here, are you?” Claude’s tone was curt, and Dimitri looked away from him with a scowl. “Listen, they’ve had two opportunities to take Teach and go, but they didn’t either time. Why?”

“They _want_ me to come to them. Whatever it is they want with me. They need me not to struggle,” I suggested. It was the thought I had before, the whole reason I went to Claude to begin with. I wasn’t expecting him to reply to my request for help with the kids and a simple idea with an enlistment into this conflict. But things would certainly be easier with him around.

“Exactly. And what better leverage than your darling husband?”

Dimitri nearly choked on his current sip of his drink. “What?” he spluttered.

“No.” I patted Dimitri on the back as he continued to cough. “I’m not putting him in unnecessary danger.”

“It’s not unnecessary. Would you prefer that the Agarthans blow up more of Fódlan?” Claude eyed me carefully, knowing that his questions led to dangerous territory. “They won’t kill him.”

“You don’t know that. They eliminated my father when they thought he might get in the way of their plans during the last war. Who’s saying that they won’t kill Dimitri because he might get in the way? They have other ways of manipulating me, I’m sure,” I said. I already had to give up my kids. I wasn’t exactly warm to the idea of putting my husband directly into the arms of the enemy.

Dimitri put his hand over mine. “Let us hear what Claude intends first.”

“I will not budge,” I warned him, yanking my hand out from underneath his and grabbing my drink instead. I took a generous sip.

“Oh, you just might.”

Claude… always so sure of himself. Sometimes I loved him, and other times…

“You’ve indicated that Seteth has already sent out a team looking for the Agarthans, correct?” Claude asked, and I responded with a single nod. “That’s the church’s movement, you could argue. The rebels who attacked in Hrym were eliminated by the javelin of light—a single, decisive action that ended whatever conflict was going on there. To the average citizens who doesn’t know about the Agarthans and Nabateans, it seems a little suspicious, doesn’t it? That there was a conflict, and the conflict ended by destroying the whole region _and_ the Knights of Seiros who were there trying to help?”

“Do we release a statement telling everyone who did it, then?” I asked. “Rumors are going to start spreading.”

Claude got a gleam in his eyes. “No, that’s exactly what we want to happen. Who would be against both rebellion _and_ the church?”

My gaze shifted to Dimitri’s, and we both shook our heads at each other. “No… that doesn’t make sense,” I said.

“And why not? Everyone thinks you’re just married for political reasons, anyway.” Claude shifted, moving to sit on his knees as he got more into his idea. He enjoyed scheming a little too much sometimes, but at least there was no poison involved… yet. “The people see the two of you and see a marriage between church and state. And good ol’ ‘state’ is always vying for political control from the church, isn’t it? It’s not exactly a harmonious union. The church is seeking power, and the state wants it back.”

“Okay. But then isn’t there a contradiction? You said the Agarthans would want to use him as leverage. If I was only married for political purposes, why would I care if they took him?” I quickly added, “But I would care, of course.”

“Because it’s all about perception.” Claude was really building this up, getting more and more animated with every word. “The public perception is that it looks like the Fódlan government was the culprit of the attack. And if left without correction, that rumor would perpetuate and cause distrust between the citizens and the government. So, what better way to correct that perception than fighting back alongside the church?”

Was it the heat of the flame in the fireplace that brought a light sweat to my forehead? The alcohol?

“And the Agarthans?” Dimitri asked.

“Given that the queen of Fódlan is the target, it makes sense for the king to take up the frontlines in defense. Dimitri will take a small troop down to Hrym. It’s the only lead you have,” Claude continued. “Dimitri goes, the Agarthans follow, and they’ve got their leverage. What they don’t know is that he’ll be tracked. So, not only will we decipher their location and keep His Kingliness safe, but we will also be able prepare ahead of time for when you work out your exchange. A two-part plan: get Dimitri in, then get Teach in.”

I _would_ feel better if I knew Dimitri was safe and if I knew where he was. “How do you propose we track Dimitri without them knowing?”

Claude reached over to the bottle, forgoing the once again empty glass in front of him altogether and taking a swig from the bottle. There wasn’t much left, but he held it out to me when he finished with his drink. After all the closeness of war, I had no issues drinking out of the same bottle as him, and I followed suit.

Dimitri was more hesitant. But there were some things, after having kids, that just weren’t that gross anymore. So, he drank straight from the bottle, too.

“We need a mage.” Claude reached into his pocket and pulled out a letter he already had addressed to a familiar name. “And I think you happen to know one who teaches at the Royal School of Sorcery in Fhirdiad.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prior to writing this, I literally had not written in months. Probably… at least six months? So now I write, and I feel like it’s so much harder for me. But it’s a pleasant enough feeling to at least get some words out, even if it’s not my best. I’m certainly out of practice. Hopefully you all enjoy the story regardless of my difficulties in producing something that actually contains decent writing.


	8. Class Reunion

**Chapter Eight – Class Reunion**

The last time the Blue Lions were all together was six years ago at the Garreg Mach Monastery for the highly politicized event of the marriage of the Church of Seiros’s archbishop to the King of Fódlan: my wedding to Dimitri.

There were hundreds of people there, most of whom I did not know, present only because of their ties to the Kingdom or the previous Alliance. So, when I met Dimitri in the front of that cathedral, it was in the witness of people I had never met. But out there, somewhere in the sea of unfamiliar faces, I could find my friends. My family. The Blue Lions were there for me, so Dimitri and I would not have to be wed alone in the crowd.

I couldn’t officiate my own wedding, so Seteth had the honor of seeing us bound in holy matrimony. Rhea should have been the one, I always thought, but she seldom came out of her room those days and did not dare to in front of hundreds of people that particular day. Alois sat in the front row of pews bawling his eyes out beside Gilbert, who had not yet forgiven himself entirely and taken his name back. Flayn kept waving at me whenever I so much as glanced in the direction of the pews.

I never found out where the Blue Lions were sitting, but they all found us after the ceremony but before the reception. Felix would never be completely honest with himself nor with me, but he still managed to tell me, “You look nice,” without going completely red in the face. Mercedes, Annette, and Ashe gushed about how special it had all been and how beautiful I looked and how handsome Dimitri was. Sylvain wouldn’t say anything, but he was staring at me the whole while. Ingrid eyed him carefully as if waiting for the moment he said something inappropriate.

And Dedue, Dimitri’s right-hand man, was on guard more than ever with so many strangers around. He could not break for this special day, yet he assured the both of us that he enjoyed the ceremony all the same and thanked me for making His Majesty so happy.

The reception would not be for another couple of hours, as Dimitri and I were to have our official portrait painted while my hair remained in its elaborate updo. But once in front of the artist, I looked at Dimitri, and he looked at me, and nothing else seemed more fitting in that moment than to have the whole gang with us.

So, what was only supposed to be a short session turned out to be a four-hour long sitting, and we all showed up late to the reception much to the grumbling of the kitchen staff who informed us that the meal was now cold. Still, even in its incomplete form before the artist painted it thoroughly, I never saw artwork so beautiful, and I vowed to hang the portrait of my family above my mantle in my new home with Dimitri once completed.

It summed us up, if nothing else. Dimitri and I stood in the center, prim and proper and poised with our hands together in front of us. Sylvain stood directly behind us, sticking his head between ours with his hands on our shoulders. Felix, pouting as ever, looked relatively miserable beside Dimitri. Mercedes had both her arms wrapped around my left one, smiling so genuinely that you would have thought this was _her_ wedding. Annette stood next to Felix, standing stiffly and a step away from him so that she wouldn’t bump him. Ingrid, like the true knight she was, stood tall on the other side of Mercedes with a full smile on her lips. Ashe looked like a little kid compared to her, even though he had been recently knighted, as well.

Though perhaps a bit boring to the others, who complained a few times throughout the process of their cheeks hurting and needing to use the restroom, that remained my fondest memory of my wedding.

It seemed fitting now that our first reunion since would be held at Garreg Mach. I didn’t know how it was managed, but everyone was back together again. Annette responded quickly and eagerly to Claude’s letter asking for her assistance, and she reached out to Mercedes to see if we could all get together at Garreg Mach. Since so many of the Knights of Seiros had been dispatched, the knights’ quarters were now almost empty, so there would be room for all of us to stay (with Seteth’s permission, which she assured us would be no problem).

Felix and Sylvain volunteered to join Dimitri, Claude, and I down to Garreg Mach without having been asked. Sylvain told Dimitri that he had to “make up” for failing to protect me properly in Hrym once he found out about my near-death experience during our battle saving that village that I had withheld from him and Felix.

Obviously, anywhere Dimitri went, Dedue and Ingrid followed, especially given the severity of this situation and the likelihood of trouble. Dedue volunteered to be the one to get taken by the Agarthans, but Claude, with an amused grin, told him that unfortunately it just wouldn’t work out.

Which left Ashe. No one told me he was coming, so when we arrived at Garreg Mach and I saw him standing in the dining hall, I couldn’t help but give him a hug. He looked completely flustered when I let him go and kept bowing to Dimitri, muttering something about how he “never meant to disrespect him or the church.”

Students at the Academy watched our reunion curiously, staring at us all as we exchanged hugs and commented on how long it had been. Mercedes touched my hair, and Annette kept tugging on my arm, just like Katrina or Alexi would do. Ashe and Dedue immediately got into a conversation about different vegetables they had been growing in their respective gardens, and Dimitri observed with a smile the interactions between his old friends.

After a minute, Annette looked up and met Felix’s gaze, and she went red as a tomato. “F-Felix!” she shouted, nearly blasting me away. “It’s n-nice to see you!”

Mercedes leaned into me and giggled. “She’s been pining for him for the last six years. She mentions him every time she writes to me,” she whispered, and I bit my lip to keep myself from conspicuously smiling.

“Write any more songs lately?” Felix asked. “About beasties or more exploding libraries?”

Did he just smile? Genuinely?

“Shh, don’t talk about that!” Annette pleaded.

I stepped away from Mercedes and stepped into Dimitri’s side. “We have to do something about this,” I muttered under my breath, and his brow furrows.

“About what?”

“You don’t see it?” I asked.

“See what?”

I sighed. Useless husband. But it explained a lot about why he never made a move on me sooner than he did. Dimitri might have been a pretty smooth talker, but he wasn’t exactly… an outgoing romantic.

“Annette apparently has feelings for Felix, and did you see Felix smile just now? I think he might feel something for her, too.” Dimitri looked now, but there was no change in his expression of confusion. This still went far over his head. “Has he ever said anything to you?”

“Why would he say anything to me?”

He sounded a bit sad. I wondered what it was that had happened again between them—the same thing that made Felix suddenly refer to him as a boar again, surely. Boys… it was always something so trivial and petty.

In any case, they were both grown men who could deal with it themselves. In the meantime, I could always get my information from Sylvain.

I sidled up to Sylvain and elbowed him to tear his attention away from the scene. _He_ noticed. He had to have.

“What’s the situation here?” I asked.

It wasn’t much like me to get so wrapped up in the love lives of my students. I’d been known to chastise them for focusing more on that over their studies. But seeing as we were all getting older, and out of my former Blue Lions students, only Dimitri and Ashe, to a young woman from his territory, had gotten wed, it wouldn’t hurt to give some of the more awkward ones a little push in the right direction.

Ingrid preferred her solace, and I respected that. Mercedes, too, had chosen to remain single in pursuit of her goals in the church. Even Sylvain, whose endless conquests in love ended in heartbreak every time, probably wouldn’t get married—at least not now, not when the situation with the Crests was still so fragile. But I knew that Annette wanted to get married someday. And Felix? Well, he was oblivious and a bit asocial, but he had also never indicated that he didn’t want to get married like the others.

Sylvain, though, looked like his birthday had come early. He grinned at me and leaned down to whisper in my ear. “Sometimes I hear him humming.”

I stood up straighter and narrowed my eyes at the redhead. “What?”

He gestured for me to come closer again, so I leaned back into him. “Annette’s songs. Sometimes I hear him humming these really bizarre tunes, and it turns out that they’re Annette’s songs.”

Aha! Struck gold here.

“Want to let me in on the secrets?”

Sylvain and I separated, and Claude stepped in between us. I felt badly that I almost forgot about him amongst the chaos of the Blue Lion reunion. He didn’t look too out of place, though. After all, he spent the same year of school here like the rest of the students, and we all got along well enough.

“Any way to set Annette and Felix up, oh, Master Tactician?” Sylvain asked.

“I’ll get right on it,” he agreed, and the two men shook hands.

I had this sinking feeling in my gut that I might have started something bad.

“Teach, should we…” Claude jabbed a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the counter where we picked up our food. That probably wasn’t what he meant. “If we want to be out of here before the kiddies go to bed, we need to start the strategy meeting.”

“Okay.”

We gathered up our friends and moved up to the second floor. The sound of loud, casual chatter behind me was like music to my ears after all this time. I could hear them as they were—my students—for the first time in years. Goddess, how I missed them.

But it wasn’t the happiest of reasons to reunite. It reminded me too much of the war. We sat in the same seats in the Cardinals’ meeting room, had the same solemn expressions once we recalled why we gathered here. We weren’t here for a simple class reunion. Some of us could die.

Dimitri stood and looked around at our friends at the table. The moment he rose, all cordial chatter ceased. The gazes resting on him were those of loyal subjects idolizing and preparing to die for their king. I was the only one who did not look at him, but instead glanced around at those who did. It said a lot about him to see their adoration so plainly on their faces.

“Thank you all for joining us. We recognize that many of you had to rearrange duties or work, and your contribution and commitment to being here does not go unnoticed,” he told them. “As you have been informed, Hrym was targeted in an attack recently that decimated the region. The perpetrators have revealed themselves to Byleth and indicated that they have some sort of plan that involves her. And perhaps until this plan is fulfilled, these attacks could continue to occur.”

“We don’t know how many of these so-called ‘javelins of light’ they have, but we know that regardless, they are skilled mages and assassins. During our time at the Academy, I heard of your tribulations with Solon and Kronya before the war—expect more of the same in terms of abilities,” Claude added. Dimitri nodded beside him.

“Seteth, do you have any updates for us?” I asked.

Given how strained his facial features were, I assumed that nothing had come of his efforts. The only time I had seen him look more stressed was when Flayn went missing.

“Reports from the Knights indicate there have been no additional attacks or suspicious activity in the surrounding areas. Efforts to locate the Agarthans have proven fruitless. Whatever has kept them hidden for the past thousand years has continued to be successful for them.” Seteth rubbed the bridge of his nose and then looked back up at me. “We have elected to spread the troops thin in order to protect them from another attack like in Hrym, and they circulate amongst locations to ensure that no troop can be attacked without another noticing. But the Agarthans have been quiet.”

“We have to bait them,” Sylvain suggested. “They’re going to come for the Professor on their own terms unless we give them a reason to come for us first.”

“I had the same thought,” Claude agreed. He stood up and walked over to the chalkboard that had been wheeled into the room for us. He drew an oval meant to represent Fódlan and slashed a small X in the middle. “The Agarthans have an issue with the Church. And yet here we are, safe and sound, at Garreg Mach Monastery, the largest symbol aside from Teach of the Church. There must be a reason they haven’t gone after this place. So, for us to bait them, we have to look outside of Garreg Mach—but not _too_ far. It has to look like a planned assault by the Fódlan army in concert with the Knights of Seiros.”

“What are you suggesting?” Seteth asked.

Claude pointed to the X on his drawing and tapped it with the chalk. Little white flecks flew off and dropped to the floor. “We play dumb. Outside of the monastery, set up a troop led by Dimitri with the majority of the Knights of Seiros. Have it look like we’re guarding the monastery. It puts all of our bait in one location: the person Teach cares most about and the knights who follow her.”

“And if they try to blow them up again?” Felix asked.

“They won’t. They need something to hold over Teach’s head. This is where Annette comes in.”

Annette folded her hands together on the tabletop and stared at them. “I want to help, but a tracking spell like that is some pretty dark magic. Even if I could cast it, if I don’t make it strong enough to be untraceable, they’ll recognize it, and they’ll kill Dimitri in a heartbeat. I’m just saying that it’s risky.”

“Then we shouldn’t—” I began, but Dimitri cut me off before I could finish.

“Do you think you _can_?” he asked Annette.

She twisted her hands together some more but finally looked up from them. “Well, Lysithea did share some of her books with me back at school, so I understand the concepts pretty well. But we’re not allowed to study dark magic at the Royal School of Sorcery, so I haven’t exactly cracked them open recently.”

“Dimitri, this is too dangerous,” I told him, but he just smiled at me.

“We’ll practice.”

I hated how unconcerned he was. I knew it was a farce. He liked to act brave in front of me. Especially in situations like this that he thought would cause me anxiety, he pretended to know exactly what he was talking about like he had a clue. He didn’t. And it was his optimism, false and protective, that reminded me how fragile he was. He was easily manipulated when it came to the ones he cared about.

“Let’s ask this one more time.” Claude turned to Annette and looked at her as if he could see right through her. “Can you do this?”

Annette’s face went red. She glanced around the table, eyes tracing over every soul in the room, and lingered on Felix’s for an extra second. She licked her lips and then turned her attention back to Claude and sighed. “Yes,” she said. There was no ounce of hesitation in her voice anymore. “I can do it.”

Claude clapped his hands together and grinned. “Excellent. So, Annette, Dimitri, and Felix will work on mastering the necessary spell. You have a week to get it right while Seteth recalls the Knights of Seiros to the monastery. At that point, Dimitri will lead his army to the village outside Garreg Mach and begin an occupation. And then we wait and hope that those slippery bastards bite.”

There was so much uncertainty, but then again, that was how Claude played the game. He liked the gamble. He would risk this entire operation on the hope that everything would play out how he envisioned, and his foresight usually made it so. Still, given that the Agarthans evaded notice for the past millennium, I could not help but feel undecided about this plan’s merit.

“Why am I being roped into the practice?” Felix asked.

I noticed Sylvain wink at me out of the corner of my eye.

“To monitor their work and make sure Annette doesn’t end up accidentally banishing His Majesty to another dimension, of course,” Claude told Felix, as if this had been obvious. Felix seemed annoyed, but he didn’t make any objections.

Annette hiccupped. “Is that a risk?”

“How about we all get settled into our rooms, and we can all meet up for dinner in an hour?” I offered. We made as much progress as we were going to make today.

There was a murmur of agreement, and we all dispersed. Most of our group would be staying in the knights’ quarters, but seeing as Claude wanted the Knights to return, I wasn’t sure how long that would last.

Dimitri and I would be back in my old room, this time without Felix and Sylvain on my floor. It had been a long while since we spent the night together there—so many memories returned to me in this place. I wouldn’t deny I resented the church quite a bit for everything, but it had also been responsible for some of my best memories, too.

“G-good evening, Your Majesty!” one boy shouted in our direction as we walked across campus, opposite our friends, towards my room. “And Your Grace!”

Dimitri stopped and looked at the boy. He was probably seventeen or so, Dimitri’s age when he had entered the Academy. He appeared a little scared to see Dimitri looking at him—which, given my husband’s appearance, wasn’t that shocking. It was the eyepatch. He took it off at night to sleep, but otherwise, he kept it on all the time.

When Dimitri bowed to the boy, I thought the poor kid might pass out. Dedue tried to tell Dimitri once that he shouldn’t bow to commoners now that he was king, but Dimitri thought the idea was nonsense. That pretty much summed up what he was like as king.

“We’ll have to talk to some of them soon,” he told me as we continued our stroll to my room. “I want to hear their thoughts about what school is like these days.”

I shrugged. “Can’t be much different than it was when you were here.”

But Dimitri nudged me and smiled. “They probably don’t have a professor like you. One who brought us all together the way you did.”

“Cyril’s teaching, did you hear?”

He nodded. “Not as easy on the eyes as you, though.”

I glared at him. “Shut it.”

“I speak only the truth, my beloved.”

I rolled my eyes but smiled. Cyril was cute, though. I wondered how many girls went to his office after hours to talk to him. Cyril seemed like the oblivious type and would have no idea what nefarious ideas those girls had.

When we reached my old room and unlocked the door, Dimitri quietly shut it behind us and put his hands on my hips. I barely had a second to think about it before his lips were on mine, and he pushed me back onto my bed without a moment’s hesitation. He stopped only when I turned my head away, though only temporarily before moving to my neck.

“What are you doing?” I demanded.

“This room,” he said in between kisses, “brings back memories.”

“I have no memories of this,” I accused as he went to lift my shirt.

“It is more like memories of what I _wanted_ to do to you back then,” he breathed, pulling my shirt up over my head. I certainly held no objections to any of this, but I still wanted an explanation.

“And here I thought you were a polite prince who just wanted to sleep,” I quipped, and he kissed me on the lips again to shut me up.

Maybe I should have asked for more time before dinner.

But we were barely starting when I noticed a scroll on my desk out of the corner of my eye as Dimitri worked his way down my torso. I might’ve let it go had it been any other visit. In fact, as Dimitri kissed me, I kept thinking, “Just ignore it. Just ignore it.”

And yet I couldn’t put it out of my mind.

“Stop,” I told Dimitri, putting my hands on his shoulders and pushing him up off my chest.

“What’s wrong, By?” he asked, sitting up and moving to the side of the bed so that he sat next to me now.

I stood up and grabbed the scroll, waving it at Dimitri. “I didn’t think Seteth let anyone in here. The door was locked.”

“Maybe Felix or Sylvain left it behind last time,” he suggested.

I pulled the ribbon off the rolled parchment and unwrapped it. After spending time with Felix and Sylvain, I could recognize their handwriting in a heartbeat. Felix’s was messy, nothing more than chicken-scratch. Sylvain’s handwriting was nicer, befitting for a flirt who liked to break up with girls through letter.

But this belonged to neither. And it certainly wasn’t Seteth’s handwriting either.

“No… it can’t be true…” I muttered, scanning the words again and again.

Dimitri stood up now and hurried to my side. “What?”

“Look.”

I held the parchment out to him, and we each held a hand on it as he read.

_You are a brave one, or perhaps simply foolish. Do you recall how Solon and Kronya appeared to you at Garreg Mach? You have an enemy hidden amongst your friends. Tread carefully._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, talk about a buzzkill. Sorry, Dimitri, maybe another time.


	9. Connections

**Chapter Nine – Connections**

I threw my shirt back on and hurried out of the room, glancing back and forth around the area as if the person who left this note would appear before me. Dimitri followed me out a moment later still holding the letter and put a hand on my shoulder. I shrugged him off and stepped down the stairs in front of my room. Not even students walked around now, as they had probably gathered in the dining hall for dinner by now.

“By. By! Byleth!” Dimitri called as he followed me. I didn’t know exactly what my plan was, but I needed to be where people were. It hadn’t yet been an hour, so my friends wouldn’t be in the dining hall yet. But there would be plenty of people there for me to observe.

I stopped only when Dimitri closed a hand around my wrist, probably stronger than he meant, and I turned back at him. “You’re hurting me,” I told him.

He let go of me then as if my skin had started to burn. “My apologies.”

“Do you think it’s true?” I asked.

Dimitri looked down at the parchment in his hand and said nothing for a moment. “I… am unsure,” he responded finally. “The Agarthan man who appeared before you has been fairly forthcoming with information thus far, but I also suspect he wants to sow seeds of doubt among our allies.”

I tried to run through my mind all the interactions of the past several hours. Had anyone been acting unlike themselves? No one had ever suspected a thing of Tomas, only retrospectively, but Kronya as Monica had been a different person entirely. There had to be signs nonetheless if there was an imposter in our ranks, right?

Felix and Sylvain. They had come with us from the Oghma mountains, and there was nothing about their personalities that seemed suspect, aside from Felix’s smile at Annette. But that had to be him, right? Sylvain wouldn’t have confirmed Felix’s interest in her otherwise.

Annette. No, she seemed herself. Though it had been a long while since we last met, I recognized her bubbly personality, and would she have talked about what she knew from Lysithea if it was an Agarthan in disguise?

Mercedes. I suspected nothing when we met her last, and still I saw nothing out of the ordinary now.

Dedue and Ashe. They had a conversation back in the dining hall about gardening. Most people found Dedue unapproachable, but he and Ashe were good friends. An imposter wouldn’t have known that, would they? Unless they had been watching us for years.

Ingrid. She was as serious as ever, still skeptical of Felix’s and Sylvain’s disruptive behavior. That seemed perfectly normal.

Claude. I had to include him. He was one of my greatest allies at the moment. Given his interactions with my kids and Hilda, I did not suspect him.

That left Dimitri. But no, the way he kissed me back in the room was very much him.

And anyway, if someone had replaced one of our allies, that would mean… that whoever it was had been murdered. Both Tomas and Monica had “disappeared” before returning to Garreg Mach—Tomas himself had retired from his service at Garreg Mach eight years before my arrival and only reappeared when Edelgard enrolled at the Academy. Monica had vanished during her own schoolyear the year before, and reappeared unexpectedly when we rescued Flayn. Given that these were merely “borrowed looks,” according to Kronya, didn’t that mean they had murdered the actual humans Tomas and Monica?

I couldn’t accept that someone had been able to defeat one of my allies. We survived five-and-a-half years of war together. It seemed impossible that someone could show up in times of peace and murder one of my friends without anyone noticing.

And yet… what if?

“My beloved, put it out of your mind. It would not bode well to be doubting our allies now. Should it come to that, we will have to face the impossible. But until that time, it would only serve to divide us at a time we need to be united,” Dimitri said, holding the letter out to me. “In the meantime, I think it best to keep this between us. We don’t need anyone else getting suspicious.”

I took the parchment and crumpled it in my grip. “All right.”

He smiled at me, his attempt to be reassuring, a brushed a loose lock of my hair behind my ear. “We still have time before dinner. Shall we take a walk?”

I nodded and took his hand. I felt badly that I interrupted what he had started earlier, but I was glad he hadn’t suggested we continue. I hardly felt in the mood now.

We walked hand-in-hand around the monastery. The sun had lowered behind the walls surrounding us, casting us in shadows below a twilit sky. With the students mostly at dinner now, we had the area almost entirely to ourselves. Only Knights who had not been dispatched and merchants remained, but they left us alone save for a bow or respectful greeting.

“Dimitri,” I began as we stopped by the fishing pond. “I know you will do whatever it takes to protect Fódlan. To protect me.”

“Of course, my love.”

I crouched at the edge of the fishing pier, observing a fish swim away as I got nearer. “But I think this is a terrible idea. I’m not one to be critical of Claude’s schemes—most of the time. The ones involving poison are the ones I’m usually critical of,” I corrected when Dimitri looked at me with a raised eyebrow. “I just foresee this ending with someone dead, whether it’s you or Annette—or Felix while he’s babysitting you two.”

“Annette is a skilled mage,” Dimitri countered. “Aside from that, I am aware of the risks. But given that we know not where the Agarthans are centralized nor how many there are, we have little else to go on except that they want revenge on the church and the progenitor god. And we have the people of Fódlan to consider, not to mention my position. Claude is right—this whole situation looks scandalous for the government, so the only way to kill two birds with one stone is to convince the people I am against what happened in Hrym by taking the front lines against the Agarthans.”

“Or you could just come out in public and condemn the events in Hrym.” I pulled off each of my shoes and stockings and dipped my feet into the water. “We could release a joint statement from the church and government if you think that would be better. Claude only said no to that because he wants to use you.”

He sat down next to me cross-legged and put a hand on my head. “It’s okay.”

“No, Dimitri, it’s not. I lost my father to these people. And if… if they played a role in the events in Duscur, then you lost yours to them, too. I refuse to lose you to them.”

Dimitri grabbed my hand the moment I mentioned Duscur, and I looked away at the water to stare at him.

“Duscur? What about it?”

I shook my head. It was but a theory I crafted. “Well, you recall Cornelia, don’t you? What Sylvain told me about her was that she kind woman who saved the Kingdom from the plague that claimed your mother’s life. But the woman we met… she wasn’t like that. What if she was replaced, like Tomas and Monica, by the Agarthans? She said that she helped your stepmother with the Tragedy of Duscur. What if _they_ were part of it all?”

I hated to bring it back up. Every time it was, Dimitri got that crazed look back in his eye. I flipped my hand in his so that our palms touched and squeezed. But his fingers went limp as the weight of my words set in, and he began to laugh. It was that haunting laugh that I so desperately wanted to never hear again, but every now and again, Dimitri would talk to the voices in his head.

“All the more reason that I go out there, then,” he growled. He stood up and pulled me with him, and we faced each other on the edge of the pier. Just a step further and I would go tumbling into the water. “Perhaps I need not be bait. I may very well kill them on my own.”

“Dimitri…”

He touched my hair again, letting a lock slip slowly between his fingers. “It’s time for dinner. Let’s go.”

I leaned down and grabbed my shoes and socks, pulling them on hastily and then looking back up at my husband. I had hoped that mentioning Duscur would keep him from joining the fray because of his terrors associated with it, but that had been naïve of me. I shouldn’t have expected anything less.

After all that, we were the last ones to arrive in the dining hall. There were a few straggling students finishing their meals, who eyed us with slacked jaws as we walked past, but otherwise the room was mostly empty. The Blue Lions, Claude, Cyril, and Seteth sat at one long table nearest the counter, with a gap between Sylvain and Mercedes meant for the two of us.

“Felix,” I whispered as I walked by to take my seat next to Mercedes. “I need to talk to you privately after dinner.”

He traced me until I sat down, an indication that he heard me and nothing more.

“Professor, you’ll be pleased to know that several of my students cooked this meal special for ya. When they found out you’d be here for dinner, they begged,” Cyril announced proudly.

Now that the Kingdom had absorbed the Alliance and Empire, the houses of the Blue Lions, Golden Deer, and Black Eagles were no more. The Academy still utilized the house system, but the designations had become simply Blue, Gold, and Black, with students from different regions intermingled rather than confined to a house based on their home. Cyril taught students from the Gold House, he explained, which boasted of superior archery skills and wyvern riders.

I lifted some of the food to my mouth for a taste. “It’s delicious. You’ll have to introduce me later so I can give my thanks.”

“How did you find your accommodations?” Seteth asked.

While everyone told Seteth what they thought, I listened and watched. Was that always how Ashe used his utensils? I thought he held his knife in his left hand. Was Sylvain always so quiet at meals? He usually had so much to say. Did Ingrid always eat so delicately? I remembered her shoving her face with food.

_Stop it_, I told myself.

“Professor, you look like you’re bothered by something. Is everything all right? Should I prepare some tea?” Mercedes asked, touching my arm delicately with just the tips of her fingers. I snapped back to reality and noticed every pair of eyes on me.

“Just tired,” I assured her.

“You’ll want to catch up on your rest before the plan is put into motion,” Seteth told me. “We will need you at your best.”

I nodded. “I will be ready.”

“The people of Fódlan are counting on you. And I cannot begin to emphasize how important you are to the Church of Seiros. Without you, the church would crumble. I hope you are aware of just how necessary you are,” he continued. I nodded once more, mostly just hoping that this would make him be quiet.

“Hey, Professor, I wanted to ask,” Annette began. I had a feeling she was trying to help me out. That was definitely Annette, no imposter. “You don’t look any different since the day we met! I mean, aside from the green hair and eyes. What’s your secret?”

Did I look the same? I never paid any attention to that. I was lucky if I splashed my face with water in the morning to clean it.

“The kids just keep me young, I guess,” I said.

“Funny, His Majesty looks like he’s aged an extra ten years just since Katrina was born,” Felix said. Ingrid shot him a look from opposite him.

Dimitri blinked. “Thank you for that.”

“Do you have any kids, Ashe?” I asked.

“Oh. Um, no, Your Grace.”

I frowned. “Ashe, you don’t need to call me that.”

“S-sorry.”

Yeah, that was Ashe, all right. No doubt in my mind about him.

“That was absolutely delicious,” Ingrid announced. So much for eating delicately. She certainly had been eating like a proper young woman, while at the same time not coming up for any air. Her plate was spotless.

I looked down the table. Most of the others still had food. Felix was almost done. Dedue seemed to be savoring his meal because he was eating it in very tiny chunks and still had a mound on his plate. The food might have been a little too spicy for Mercedes because she had hardly touched it.

“What are the plans for after dinner? Anyone want to head into town and pick up some girls? And guys—you ladies are more than welcome to join us,” Sylvain offered to a chorus of groans. “No? No one?”

“I may head to the training grounds to work off the meal if you would like to join me,” Dimitri told him.

Mercedes shook her head. “I have to plan for my service tomorrow.”

“I think I’m going to head to the library to see what new additions they have added,” Ashe said.

Annette raised her hand. “I’ll go with you.”

“Me, too,” agreed Ingrid. “I’ve been wanting to get my hands on the new series about Pan, and I’ve heard rumors the library has it.”

“You people are so boring. What is wrong with you? Are you still students?” Sylvain cried, banging his fists on the table and causing a clatter. This earned him a stern look from Seteth. “Come on… Dedue? Felix?”

“Got plans,” Felix said.

Dedue also shot him down. “I will accompany His Majesty to the training grounds.”

“Professor?”

I stared at him. “I’m married, Sylvain.”

“And marriage has made you so boring!” He hung his head, but only for a moment before resting his chin in the palm of his hand propped up by his elbow. “I’ll just go alone. I’m used to it.”

“On that note.” Felix stood up and grabbed his plate. “See you.”

The rest of us followed suit. We brought our dishes to the kitchen and dumped them in the sink, leaving them to soak overnight and to be cleaned tomorrow.

Then we all went our separate ways. Annette, Ashe, and Ingrid headed down the hall towards the stairwell to the second floor; Dimitri and Dedue walked out the back entrance of the dining hall that would bring them to the training grounds. Mercedes waved us off and sat back down at a table with a notebook, and Sylvain sulked away out the south entrance.

I followed Felix to the stables, the quietest place the monastery offered except the cathedral, and I didn’t want to be caught in there given my position—I would be swarmed by clerics.

“What’s this about?”

I grabbed one of the brushes sitting next to a bucket on the ground and hung it up where it belonged.

“You need to watch Dimitri. Make sure he doesn’t slip. I told him that the Agarthans might have had something to do with the Tragedy of Duscur, and now he’s got it in his head that he’s actually going to be doing battle with them,” I warned.

“Why would you tell him that?” Felix asked, as if I had just said the dumbest thing he had ever heard. Maybe I had.

“I thought he would be _scared_,” I explained. “He gets upset about his night terrors, and he gets especially anxious when the ghosts of his past start talking to him. I thought he would be too afraid to face them again, that he would be too afraid of wanting revenge and letting them get to him. And if he was scared, he wouldn’t go be the bait for my sake.”

Felix sighed. “I’ll keep an eye on him. That’s apparently what I’m here for anyway,” he grumbled. But then he gave me a small smile, just a little one that anyone else might’ve thought was a grimace if not for the way it reached his eyes. “Professor, you’re not going to be able to convince him. So don’t tell him anything else that might make him lose it again.”

“Sorry. I won’t.”

“And how’s your head these days? Aside from the obvious lack of forethought?” He flicked my forehead, and I smacked his hand.

“My head?” I repeated.

“The dizziness?”

Oh. I hadn’t felt dizzy in days. Maybe it had all been some sort of subconscious warning from Sothis that I didn’t know how to read. Then again, Sothis had felt the same way I did those many years ago. Could it have been triggered by whatever connection we had with the Agarthans?

“I’ve been fine. Thank you for asking,” I said, and he shrugged. Was it like him to ask about how I felt? Well, only if he needed to make sure I was prepped and ready for battle, but I wasn’t heading into it right away.

How easy would it be to impersonate one of my friends? Well, to the average observer, maybe they all seemed rather one-dimensional at best. Felix was grumpy, Sylvain made eyes at anything with a pulse and occasionally things without, Dedue was Dimitri’s lapdog, Mercedes was sweet and devote, Annette was a little childish but also incredibly hard-working, Ashe was the most earnest person you’d ever meet, and Ingrid was serious and principled.

But to truly understand each of them meant to look deeper. And I liked to think that I would recognize in a moment if one of them had been replaced.

Dimitri was right. There was no use worrying over it. Making me doubt them was like letting the enemy in. The enemy hidden amongst my friends could very well just be my own mind.

“Are you going to go join Dimitri and Dedue at the training grounds?” Then, with a smile, I added, “Or would you rather join Sylvain in the town and pick up some ladies?”

Felix scowled and put one hand on his hip. “Please.”

“Haven’t you any interest?” I asked a little more seriously. “Anyone ever caught your eye?”

I treaded into dangerous territory with that question. But I also knew that Felix preferred to be asked directly rather than beat around the bush, so there was a small chance he might respect that effort enough to respond. I hadn’t ever gotten so personal with him like this.

He looked at me with a relatively blank expression. He wasn’t scowling anymore, but the way his eyebrows drew over his eyes made him seem slightly annoyed. “You really want to have this conversation, Professor?”

“If I said yes?”

“Then I would say no. See you later, Professor.”

He turned away and began walking away, leaving me to wonder if the no was in reference to having anyone catch his eye or to wanting to have the conversation.

It was worth a shot.

Felix apparently chose not to head to the training grounds, since I found Dimitri there sparring with Dedue and no one else. The two were sweaty and silent. Dedue tended to be more talkative with Dimitri than anyone else, myself included, but the two of them were all business when it came to training.

But when Dedue glanced up and noticed me there, he stepped back from Dimitri’s swing and bowed in my direction. “Her Majesty is here, sir.”

“Oh?” Dimitri turned and lowered his lance. “Where did you run off to?”

“I wanted to ask Felix about Annette,” I told him, figuring it was better to tell a half-truth than an outright lie.

“And how did that go?”

I picked up a training sword and gestured for both men to come at me. “About as well as you’d expect. He wouldn’t tell me anything.”

Dimitri jabbed at me with his lance, which I parried with the tip of my blade. Dedue swung the moment Dimitri pulled back, leaving me no time to prepare another parry. I had to roll out of the way, balancing on my knee to swing at Dimitri’s legs. Dedue was there to defend him before he had even recoiled from my dodge.

“He surely likes Annette,” Dedue said as he swung again.

“Dimitri… my dear husband,” I grumbled as I swung again. “Did you hear that? Dedue thinks Felix likes Annette.”

Dimitri twisted his lance around his waist, knocking me back with the wooden end as it hit me in the gut. “Who is even getting this impression?”

Dedue knocked the sword out of my hand with his axe as I stumbled back from Dimitri’s hit. But I lifted the heel of my hand up into his wrist and grabbed the throat of the axe with my other. With a simple twist, the weapon slipped from his grip and fell into my hands, which I swung immediately at Dimitri as he prepared another jab.

“Anyone with eyes,” I grunted as I lifted the axe, which was a lot heavier than Dedue made it look.

“That stings, my love,” Dimitri said, but he was smiling, so my joke did not lack taste.

Dedue threw his fist in my direction and snapped the wooden belly of the axe in half as he made contact when I lifted it like a shield. “I will not tolerate such disrespect to His Majesty.”

“That could have been my face,” I warned, dropping the axe.

“Do remember that this is just training, Dedue,” Dimitri said.

“My apologies.”

Dimitri turned his attention back at me. “Are you going to cheat again and use magic?”

“You should prepare for it. I am sure the dark magic of the Agarthans is stronger than my white magic.”

Even so, I stepped back and retrieved my sword from the ground without casting a spell. Dedue could fight well without a weapon, and Dimitri had yet to lose his lance. Against the two of them as a team, I was at a disadvantage. And there would be no one to save me this time when I was ganged up on.

But instead, Dimitri lowered his weapon, and upon seeing this Dedue rested his fists.

I kept hold of my sword, still held up in front of my body in a defensive position. “Forfeiting?”

He nodded. “One of the things I will have to keep in mind next week when we meet the Agarthans on the battlefield,” he explained, “is that I have to know when to quit.”

I raised my eyebrows. “So, you’re not going to try to kill them?”

“Do not mistake me. If I have the opportunity to destroy them, I will do it. Especially thinking about what you told me.” He passed his lance to Dedue, who walked over to the weapon rack and leaned it against the wooden post with the other battered lances. “But should I be unable to, I will surrender myself to them. I am the king, after all. I have to protect my people. It can easily be both a sacrifice for you and for the citizens of Fódlan.”

“I know I won’t be able to say anything to change your mind. But it’s reassuring to me that at least it seems you’ve thought this through. And yet…” I passed Dedue my sword when he held his hand out for it. “I doubt they will hesitate to kill Annette, Felix, or Dedue—or any other soldier out there protecting you. Just because they won’t kill you doesn’t mean they won’t kill everyone else to get to you.”

Dimitri took my hand and then looked at Dedue as he lined up the training weapons. “I’ll do what I can to protect them, too. I swear it.”

I knew better than anyone that words were cheap. My father assured me a thousand times that he didn’t plan on dying, and yet he left me prematurely. And what Sothis claimed was fate… well, I might have agreed with her then, but now that I had the entirety of her powers…

I would try and try again to get time right, even if that meant stretching my powers and myself to the limits. At the end of the day, the only thing that mattered was that I controlled fate. And the hands of time would spin only as long as I allowed it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy early update! And no mean cliffhanger for you this time either. Guess you could say I’m feeling generous tonight. ;)


	10. Emotional Baggage

**Chapter Ten – Emotional Baggage**

The week that remained of my time together with Dimitri and the other Blue Lions flew. And that absolutely terrified me.

It always stung a little whenever someone told me I was emotionless or stoic. I remembered how shocked Dimitri had been the first time I smiled at him, how he asked me to do it again because it was mesmerizing—a rare sight, a treat, something to be treasured. Truth be told, I never realized that I didn’t wear my heart on my sleeve. It wasn’t that I didn’t _feel_ emotions. I got angry and sad and happy like all humans. Showing those emotions, though, hadn’t come naturally to me until I got to the Academy.

Sothis told me it was probably her fault. That she acted as a sort of mask over me, subduing my emotions and preventing them from peeking through to other people. And as my connection with her built and she awoke from her slumber within me, I regained control of that mask. I let other people in and showed them myself.

Even so, part of being a mercenary was the stoical aspect of it. One had to disassociate themselves from the job. Getting emotionally attached meant hesitation, which ultimately led to death. And I supposed… I carried that burden forward as a strategist. Despite how scared I was for my friends and family, I couldn’t show it. It would only get in the way for everyone else.

I recalled what Dimitri once told me those many years ago when I was but his teacher. “When we first met, I thought of you as someone who felt no strong feelings about killing your enemies. I could never trust someone who kills without batting an eye. My heart won’t allow it. But after speaking with you and getting to know you better, I can see you’re not like that.”

At yet another occasion, he informed me that I unnerved him. “You never smiled, and you never showed anger either. And yet, you didn’t appear to be suppressing your emotions. They just… weren’t there. At first, I thought perhaps you didn’t care for us, but I soon concluded that wasn’t the case at all. For the longest time I just couldn’t tell what you were thinking. It was though you had no humanity whatsoever.”

It all hurt. I _had_ feelings. Hearing such harsh words, even when he followed them up with praise about how I was different, how I _did _ have humanity, stung. Because no matter where I was—on the battlefield or spending time with my students—I felt everything everyone else did.

Yet I so readily left the impression on all I met that I felt nothing, even in battle. But I, too, felt guilt in killing innocents who got swept up in the immoral deeds of others. I just never had the luxury of questioning it as a mercenary, even less so during the war. It was only now as queen and archbishop that I realized I could help without lifting a blade, but only so much before I was left with no choice.

During my time as a mercenary, the others bestowed me with the nickname, the Ashen Demon. Everyone assumed the name came from my reputation as an unflinching killer. But the nickname actually came from two separate instances. The “demon” part was true, perhaps accurate even—I murdered my enemies without any hesitation: because I was young, because if I didn’t, I would die. One of my fellow mercenaries, witnessing a particular tirade one night in which I almost single-handedly wiped out a group of bandits, referred to me as a demon, and it stuck with the group.

Yet the “ashen” part came from a rougher night. To be ashen meant to be pale, and in most cases, that paleness came from shock or fear. A village our band of mercenaries came across had been so brutally destroyed that it almost seemed impossible for humans to have caused such damage. When we found the fiends responsible for the damage, my lingering horror appeared plain on my face even as I cut them down. I was pale with fear of what these monsters could do. But had I been unable to put those emotions aside, I would have died.

Thus, together I was the Ashen Demon. Pale with horror yet demonic in my delivering of justice.

On the final day of training, I went to the training grounds to watch Dimitri and Annette practice. Felix sat next to me on the ledge surrounding the arena itself watching their work. For the most part, his role here had been relatively boring for him, he informed me. There was only one instance in which Annette cast a strong gust of wind magic at Dimitri instead of the tracking spell and knocked him back directly into Felix, which hadn’t gone over well.

“How do you know if it works?” I asked Felix as we sat and watched Annette cast the dark spell over Dimitri. I saw no difference in him.

“We don’t want the Agarthans to be able to notice that we placed a tracking spell on him, so there’s nothing special about the spell except that it can only be noticed by Annette,” Felix explained. “But it seems that she is unable to cast any other magic after that one without breaking the trace. They’ve been at it for days trying to strengthen the spell and make it last longer, but the longest she’s been able to go is a day.”

I frowned and watched Annette cast a second spell, just a quick burst of light from her fingers. She sighed and shook her head at Dimitri.

“That might not be long enough for them to get him to their base depending on where it is,” I pointed out, even though I could have very well kept my mouth shut. I was sure they had all realized this by now. “And I hate to think so negatively, but if Annette is put in a position where she has no choice but to protect herself…”

“That’s why I’ll be there,” Felix said. “To protect her.”

I still didn’t feel comfortable with this. The closer tomorrow got, the more my stomach felt queasy. I didn’t want to be apart from Dimitri right now knowing the sort of danger he was putting himself into tomorrow, but I also couldn’t bring myself to watch any more of this. I left the training grounds and heading to Seteth’s office. Very rarely did I find him to be a comforting presence, but sometimes he made me feel optimistic.

“Your Grace.” Seteth looked up from his work and raised his eyebrows. “You look upset.”

“Do I?”

“You must be worried about tomorrow.” He gestured to one of his armchairs, and I slumped down in it. Not very becoming of a queen. “Claude is unparalleled as a tactician. You must have faith that his plans will work. The goddess will watch over His Majesty.”

“But I _am_ the goddess.” When Seteth crossed his arms, I added, “Essentially.”

“And you are going to be watching over him, are you not?” Seteth asked.

Whenever anyone blessed me in anyway relating to the goddess, or really mentioned her at all in front of me, knowing what I did now, I always wanted to tell them that their prayers meant nothing. How could Sothis watch over anyone if she was merely a part of me? I couldn’t do anything particularly special, save for turn back time approximately fifteen minutes, so how could I help anyone the way they expected a benevolent, omnipotent goddess to do?

What was I supposed to do? Claude wouldn’t let me join the battle. I would be stuck at the monastery waiting to hear the news that my husband had been successfully taken prisoner, which—frankly—was a hard thing to look forward to.

So, was I going to be watching over Dimitri? Not in a way that really mattered. He would be too far away for me to protect if anything went wrong, too far away for me to help by turning back time. I tried to convince Claude that I needed to be there, even if just on the sidelines, but he wouldn’t go for it. And I did not foresee telling him about my Divine Pulse would go over well. I would just be one more tool for him to use. Not even Dimitri knew about the Divine Pulse.

I could not fathom continuing this conversation, so I changed the subject. “How’s Flayn?”

The look on Seteth’s face was hard to pinpoint. His brows drew together with what I understood to be sadness, yet his eyes lit up the same way they always did when he spoke of his daughter. It must have been bittersweet for him to be separated from her.

“She is just fine. I was writing her a letter.” He held up the piece of parchment that he had been working on when I came in. “But, you see, she met a boy, and I am trying to figure out how to tell her to steer clear of such trivial pursuits as love.”

I usually told Seteth what he wanted to hear, which was why he came to respect me more than he had when we first met. “I think that is a hard thing for you to explain when she knows how deeply you loved your wife. And you could argue—look where that got you. Yet you hold onto your affections for her despite the pain of her death. I doubt you will be able to convince Flayn any differently.”

He sighed, took the parchment, and crumpled it up. “You may be right. I do not wish to approve of this, especially when I have not met the young man, but I am unsure that I will be able to prevent it either.”

“You’ve grown a lot,” I said, and Seteth smiled.

“As have you, Your Grace. Now, allow me to rewrite this letter. You should speak with His Majesty before he leaves about your concerns, as well.”

I nodded and left his office. I doubted there was a point in me speaking to Dimitri again about how I had a horrible feeling about all this. He had heard me say it a thousand times, so once more would be nothing new to him. Still, it would be wrong to let anything go unsaid before tomorrow.

Dimitri returned to my room late that night, well after I had already returned. I was lying in bed reading a book Ashe had recommended to me. “You’re still awake, my beloved?”

I closed the book and set it on the windowsill. “I wanted to wait for you.”

He peeled off his eyepatch, revealing his scarred eyelid forever closed from the damage. He began to undress, taking off the layers of armor and the clothes underneath. His face was not the only part of him that bore scars. His shoulder, his back, his arms, his legs. There was hardly a spot on him that did not paint a picture of all he had suffered. The scar on his shoulder was still the freshest at six years old, a final gift from Edelgard, so at least he hadn’t injured himself further in these past several years.

“The Knights of Seiros have returned. Felix, Sylvain, Ashe, and Dedue have to share a room in the knights’ quarters tonight. Annette and Ingrid as well, but they’re taking it much better than the men.” Dimitri, having finished undressing and pulled on a pair of pants, hopped up on the bed beside me.

“Ashe would never complain… nor would Dedue,” I said. It bothered me that my mind immediately went back to the letter I had since burned.

Dimitri smiled and wrapped his arms around my sides, slipped under the covers and laying his head against the pillow. “No, but I thought it would be insulting to merely name Felix and Sylvain as culprits. Ashe is trying to keep the peace, and Dedue is already fast asleep, I’m sure.”

I put my head on his chest since he commandeered the pillow and stroked the scar on his shoulder with my index finger. “Are you nervous for tomorrow?”

“Not more than you, if that is what you are implying. Everything will be fine.” His kissed the top of my head and squeezed me more tightly against him. “Let us get some rest. It’s going to be a big day.”

I wasn’t sure what I hoped for exactly. But I was left unsatisfied with his response and could not bring myself to sleep. Dimitri, though, managed to find a restful night’s sleep. I was glad that if I could not sleep, at least he could, and at least he felt secure enough to fight off the demons in his mind before facing the real ones in battle.

* * *

Dimitri didn’t kiss me goodbye when he took off from Garreg Mach to the village south of it. He brushed my hair out of my face and let his hand linger on my face, but he gave me nothing else. When I stood on my toes to kiss him, he turned his head at the last minute so that my lips pressed against his cheek instead.

I knew why, of course. Kissing me goodbye meant that this was real.

He had lied to me last night. He _was_ more nervous than I was.

“You know, Teach, His Majesty seemed… a little cold,” Claude commented a few hours after they left. We were standing in the marketplace, bartering with the merchants and handing over some weapons for refurbishment. The blacksmith always did much better on my sword than I ever could.

“He’s concerned,” I replied.

Claude put his hands on his hips. “Huh. You two really know how to read each other, don’t you?”

“I guess.”

He turned and began walking back into the monastery, and I could only manage to stay a moment longer to make sure the blacksmith could work on my sword before following him.

“You also seem to be able to read everyone,” I commented as I caught up to him.

He continued walking in silence for a minute. I wasn’t sure where he was bringing us as we crossed the halls, but I didn’t want to be alone right now and would follow wherever he led.

Then, when I figured he had no response for me, he spoke again. “My ability to read everyone comes from the fact that I don’t want others to have secrets. I can read them because I know all there is to know about them. But you have always been a tough nut for me to crack—your secrets aren’t so much secrets as just a lack of knowledge. At least they _were_. Now…”

He brought me up the stairs to the second floor. The only place I could imagine he would bring me up here would be the library. But what was there?

“Now?” I wondered.

We walked past Seteth’s office. He usually kept the door open, but it was closed now, meaning he didn’t want to be disturbed. I was always an exception to that—as leader of the church, it was my special privilege to annoy him whenever I desired.

It was almost disappointing that he had adopted a more relaxed disposition since taking over the school.

“Now,” Claude continued, turning the corner to confirm my suspicions. He was heading towards the library after all. “You seem to know that which you didn’t before. Your age. Your connection to the goddess. Your green hair and green eyes. That part’s not so different from Seteth and Flayn.”

“I only know my age now because my father had it written in his diary. It hasn’t mattered at all since I found out,” I said.

“But it does matter. How old are you now?”

I had to think about it. Because it mattered so little to me, I had never gone out of my way to memorize exactly how old I was. But I knew I was born in the Horsebow moon of 1159. So… given that it was now 1191, that meant I was almost thirty-two. Most likely, anyway.

“Probably in my early thirties,” I said. “Why?”

Claude snapped his fingers. “Because you don’t _look_ like you’re in your early thirties. In fact, I’d say you don’t much older than your early twenties at the oldest. Maybe… say, twenty-one? The age you were when you had your mysterious encounter that changed your appearance?”

He gestured for me to follow him over to one of the shelves farthest from the doorway. He pulled a book off the second shelf from the bottom and started leafing through it. I watched him skim, his eyes tracking back and forth, until he tapped a finger on the page he wanted and flipped the book for me to see. On the page, there was a subheading entitled, “Manakete,” centered halfway down it with a single paragraph following.

“You know who else hasn’t aged?” Claude asked, diverting my attention from the text back to him. “From the beginning of the war to the end, Flayn never seemed to get any older—and if she was as young as she appeared, her growth spurt should’ve hit and made her look much more mature after five years. And who else? Seteth, who should be… what, in his mid-forties by now? The man looks great if he is.”

I didn’t know what to say to any of this. I couldn’t really tell if I looked any older—I saw myself in the mirror every day, and a gradual change like that isn’t as noticeable as, say, the differences I saw in my students after five years, and even now after an additional six for some.

And I knew that Seteth and Flayn were actually the saints Cichol and Cethleann. They were children of the goddess, so it made sense that they had some sort of immortal tie to the world—or perhaps not immortal, but something close. They had been alive for a long time, that much was clear.

But me? I… wasn’t. The only thing I knew for certain was that the goddess had forged her soul with mine, but that couldn’t mean I inherited _that_ part of her, right?

In any case, Claude didn’t leave me much of an opening to form a rebuttal, anyway. “Rhea, too, except I haven’t seen her in several years. Now, the four of you have some common traits: the hair, the eyes. I don’t think this is a coincidence.”

I took the book from him and looked back down at it. “Get to the point, Claude.”

“I’m surprised Seteth didn’t take this book from the library. But it’s such a small section that maybe he didn’t notice it. Go ahead and read it.”

_The Manakete is a race different from humans but which blends in amongst them. Although they are members of the dragon tribe, the Manakete takes their humanoid forms more often than their dragon form. Notable characteristics of the Manakete include prolonged lifespans, with both psychological and physical maturity occurring at a much slower rate than humans. Many have pointed ears, though this is a trait that has been lost over time from crossbreeding with humans._

“What, you think we’re Manakete? I’ve never turned into a dragon,” I assured him.

“You might not have, but I wonder if the others have. What if the dragons of old, like the Immaculate One, were actually Manakete?” Claude took the book back and slammed it shut. He restored its place on the shelf carefully, as if to leave no evidence behind that he had been researching this.

He ran a finger along its spine and then stood back up to face me. “There’s just one flaw in my theory.”

“Oh? What’s that?”

“Your father.”

I furrowed my brow. “Why?”

“You know when you first came to the monastery?” Claude asked. I nodded. It was hard to forget. “Alois and the other knights all made comments about how it seemed like Jeralt hadn’t aged since he left the monastery. But it had been two decades since he’d been there. He should have aged _a lot_ in twenty years.”

“I always just thought they were being polite,” I admittedly a little sheepishly, but I had to admit, Claude had my attention now.

“I don’t think they were. I think he seriously did not age. And as I’ve been doing a little bit of digging around, I think there are several people in the church who we can say the same about,” Claude continued. How long had he been partaking in this investigation of his? “Which is where the flaw in my theory is. None of these people bear any resemblance to you, Flayn, and Seteth.”

“Unless we’re the exception?” I offered.

Did I just admit that I agreed with him?

“I don’t think you are. I think _they _are.” He walked over to one of the library tables and sat down at it so that he was facing the doorway. He kept glancing that way, as if checking to make sure the door didn’t pop open. “Do you remember when Flayn was taken?”

I nodded.

“I just assumed they wanted her for her Crest. Linhardt told me he had the same Crest as her—except that hers was major, and his was only minor. That’s rare, so it seemed to make sense that the Death Knight and Edelgard and all those people wanted her for that. But what if they wanted her for something else?”

Would it be wrong of me to reveal the truth? That they wanted her for her blood, because it was rare? I had a feeling that would be exactly what Claude needed to piece it all together. But what sort of conclusion would that be? One that would help us, or one that would only get in the way on our road to peace?

And I would be betrayed Seteth’s trust if I told. Could I live with that?

I elected to stay silent. Claude would come to his own conclusions either way, and I suspected he was already halfway there.

“In any case, none of this information will help us now,” Claude said finally when I did not respond. “Manakete aren’t immortal beings; they can still die. So, it’s not like we can throw you into the thick of the fray to take all the damage.”

“I appreciate that,” I responded drily.

“Like I said, this is all just conjecture. But when I do find out the truth, you’ll be one of the first to know, Teach. I’m sure the church has kept enough secrets from you. This doesn’t seem like one they should have withheld.”

Well, and if it was true, and I was aging more slowly now… didn’t that mean that one day, I would be in a world without Dimitri? Without my children? Living with the cost of watching everyone I loved grow old and die around me, tortured by grief at their passing?

Seteth managed it. Flayn, too. The only death Rhea seemed to struggle with was that of her mother’s. But I…

“Claude, do you—”

He held up a hand suddenly and looked at the door, eyes narrowed. Not a moment sooner, the doors burst open, and a knight in full armor stood panting between the frame.

“Your Grace!”

They shouldn’t have been back so soon. Not after just a few hours.

No, it was not that I suppressed my emotions. It was not that I did not have them. It was not that I was a damn demon.

I stood up, and Claude rose next to me. “What is it?”

“They knew we were coming. They were already there, waiting for us. The troops were utterly annihilated, Your Grace.”

Claude’s hand went to my back, as if to make sure I remained standing. I took a step forward to get away from his touch and blinked once before responding, “And my husband?”

“Captured by the enemy, Your Grace.”

The spell? Was the spell cast?

“And?”

“The entire vanguard was captured, Your Grace. Lady Dominic, Duke Fraldarius, Margrave Gautier, the king’s personal knight… the whole lot of them, gone. It was over in a split second, ma’am. They left but a small fraction of our troop alive. Enough of us so that we could return and deliver a message to the archbishop.”

Claude spoke before I could manage to find my voice. “And what is the message?”

The knight practically quaked in his armor. I could hear the rattling of his knees against the metal. It hurt my ears.

“That…” He hesitated, and for a moment, I thought he wouldn’t be able to say it. But he seemed to pluck up the courage and nearly shouted at me, “That you should not have ignored their warning.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um. Sorry. That is all I have to say about that.


	11. Walls

**Chapter Eleven – Walls**

I tried turning back time as far as I could manage—about thirty minutes, the most I had ever managed—but the result remained the same. No attempt made even so much as a change in how the knight delivered his news, how Claude responded, where we stood, the fate.

The only thing that changed was my reaction. I became more and more flustered with each iteration, until I finally lost control of my powers altogether. I stomped past the knight and out of the library, and Claude came running after me. He grabbed hold of my hand, tugging me back to force me to stop, but I whipped myself away from him.

“Teach, it’s okay,” he told me, hurrying around me to physically block my path.

“Is it?” I demanded. I was losing control. The walls I built, the ones that served me as a mercenary, as a queen, as an archbishop, were faltering. I knew my friends, Claude included, had seen me with my defenses down before. But this was the very instance that I needed them up. And I was slipping.

“It’s a setback, I’ll admit.” Claude ran a hand through his hair as he thought, processing the information I already had five iterations of time to think about. “Listen, this will work out. He said the vanguard was captured. So, they’re where we want them. Sure, we’re missing the tracking spell, but we can still prepare a small force to go in and take them back.”

We were down to such little manpower now. The troops had been destroyed in Hrym and now here, leaving the Knights of Seiros relatively useless. We would need to take the remaining soldiers and put them in a safe place just so we could manage to keep some of them alive. It would be near impossible to rebuild the army from the ground up.

So, who did we have left? This didn’t involve the students at the Academy, but I imagined Seteth wouldn’t be against sparing them for battle if necessary. I put my students in some rough positions back in the day, and these were kids who could handle it. But still, that brought us to… what, roughly sixty adolescents charging into battle?

Seteth would go if I asked. Cyril and Mercedes would, too. Claude still couldn’t get involved due to his position.

And then there was that message. That I shouldn’t have ignored their warning. Was that just another ploy to get me second-guessing my comrades again? But how would they have been so prepared for our plans if it wasn’t true? We really did have an enemy amongst our ranks, and that person was either still here with me or captured with the rest of them to get back with his or her fellow Agarthans.

Except… I was sure that they would like to know what my intentions were now. Which meant that the imposter was still here with me.

I looked into Claude’s eyes, trying to see into his soul and knowing I would never be able to. It was as if I could hear Sothis in my head, telling me her thoughts on all this. She had always been perceptive, yet suspicious, leading her to conclusions that I didn’t quite understand until later. She was the first one to call “Tomas” out as someone she didn’t trust. If only I had listened to her sooner.

_What are you trying to tell me?_

I waited a moment, hoping to hear her voice just once more, but I was met with silence.

I had no choice. As a mercenary, I never fought my battles alone. My father was always nearby, along with a band of other mercenaries who would support me if I needed help. As a teacher, Manuela and Hanneman always supported me, offering to take over a significant portion of my workload when my father was killed. During the war, my former-students-turned-friends were there for me, along with the Knights of Seiros.

In other words, I had never had to do anything by myself. My quiet demeanor tricked people into thinking I preferred solitude, but I had never needed it in my life. I was always surrounded by other people eager to help me, which left me unsure now. I was resilient and knew how to manage by myself, but…

No, I had no choice. This was the only path to take. I didn’t know who I could trust, so going at it alone was the only way to ensure I would make it back to Dimitri.

If I had to sacrifice myself to save him, to make sure my children got at least one of their parents back, I would do it in a heartbeat. Alexi and Katrina needed to grow up with their father. He had so much to teach them, so much he could explain to them. And even though I wanted to see them get older and get married and become amazing adults, I didn’t think I was as important to their growth.

I said not another word to Claude before walking away. My mind was made up. I supposed it truly mattered not if I spoke of my plan. They would be waiting for me either way. This was what they wanted—a way for me to willingly join them. So, everything was going the way they planned, while my dreams were crumbling to pieces before my very eyes.

But Claude would not let me get away so easily. “Where are you going?”

“My room,” I said, not turning back as I took determined steps down the hall.

Seteth’s door was still shut. He would open it back up to find me gone, another archbishop taken from under his nose.

“What are you going to do?”

I remained silent. Claude got the picture once we made it to the stairs and I still hadn’t said anything. He was like a puppy, following me and hoping to get a scrap of something, anything.

“What was that message the knight gave? About how you shouldn’t have ignored their warnings? What did that mean?”

This gave me pause. Dimitri told me not to tell anyone. But what harm was there now? Claude could be one for all I knew. Maybe I was surrounded by people who were not who I thought they were, alone from the start. If I told him, it would be just a test to see his reaction.

“At the beginning of the week, when we first got here, I found a letter in my room. It said that I have an enemy hidden amongst my friends, as Solon did as Tomas and Kronya as Monica. Dimitri advised me to ignore the warning because it was just a way to get under my skin. But the message from the knight indicates that it was a verifiable warning that I should have listened to. And because I didn’t, I let an entire troop of soldiers get murdered and all my friends captured,” I told him.

His face barely changed as I spoke. Claude was not particularly expressive as it was. He was guarded, faking his emotions as he needed to maintain control of himself and others. He was manipulative, and through these sorts of tactics, he could get what he wanted from the people around him. The ones who knew him best knew when he was faking, but that didn’t mean he never faked around us. His facades had gotten better over the years. I almost thought his stoic manner now was real.

“They very well could have sent that message back to continue to get under your skin,” he responded, going in exactly the direction I knew he would. “But whatever you’re thinking now—that you want to go at it alone, no doubt—cannot be the way to do this. We can come up with a new plan. We can—”

“We _can’t_. Because I don’t know if you’re one of them,” I interrupted, my anger bubbling over the wall I built.

This earned a genuine reaction. Sometimes when things shocked him so much or came at him so suddenly that he didn’t expect it, Claude’s emotions snuck through his walls. They were subtler than his guises. His eyes changed ever so slightly to indicate hurt, while his lips pressed into a thin line to prevent himself from saying anything.

Did that mean he was who he said he was? Or was the imposter just that good?

“I’m sorry,” I said, and continued my journey back to my room. He did not follow behind me this time. The puppy lost interest in someone who clearly didn’t want to play.

I was alone now.

I closed the door softly behind me when I returned to my quarters. My hand lingered on the doorknob, and I pressed my forehead against the wood and closed my eyes. I could stay here forever, hiding behind locked doors and hoping no one searched for me. But what good would that do?

No, I needed to get ready. I lifted my forehead off the door and let go of the knob, turning around to face my room with determination I really didn’t feel.

Pulling out my armor from beneath the bed, I started adding the bulky layers on top of my clothes. It wasn’t much. I didn’t like to be restricted, and my speed in battled meant that I didn’t need to be, for the most part. I added my vambrace on my sword arm and a pauldron on my left shoulder—I added a thinner pauldron on my right shoulder for added protection, but it wouldn’t do much in battle. A single poleyn on my left knee allowed me to get low as needed, but also protect myself when I did.

It might not have been practical to rely so little on armor, but it did the job for me. I required flexibility and freedom of movement that would otherwise be restricted, and it had done me well so far. And, honestly, I was going into battle to get myself captured. Some extra pieces of armor wouldn’t help me now.

What else would I need? Now that the message had been delivered, the Agarthans probably expected me at any time and would wait for me to step outside of the monastery. I wouldn’t need rations, most likely, since they would probably just use me for whatever they needed and then dispose of me.

I grabbed the Sword of the Creator, a silver sword, and a longbow and arrows. I probably wouldn’t need these either, but if I had the opportunity to fight, I would do so after freeing my husband and friends.

This hurt. I wasn’t the type to give up. I could come up with other options, look for some sort of loophole, but the problem was… right now, I didn’t see one. They held all the power so long as they had their hostages. I couldn’t trust the people here, so if I asked to be followed so that they might rescue me after, that plan could get slipped along ahead of time and end up putting more people in danger.

No, to make sure that the fewest casualties came from this conflict, I needed to go at it alone. It wasn’t ideal. It wasn’t what I would choose. It probably wasn’t even the only option. But it was what I could go with right now to ensure that Dimitri would come out alive.

I had just sheathed my silver sword when there was a knock on my door. I held the Sword of the Creator, its bulky weight familiar in my hand, and creaked the door open.

Claude put a hand on the doorframe as if he expected me to slam it shut on him.

“You know I can’t come with you. I told you before, as the king of Almyra, I can’t get visibly involved.” Claude smiled, but it made him look sad rather than happy. “Hence why you probably don’t trust me.”

I sighed, stepping out of the room and closing the door behind me. I looked around, making sure there was no one watching, and steeled myself for what could very well be a mistake. I didn’t want to ruin one of the only relationships I had left right now, but I couldn’t keep myself from worrying.

“Alois told me a story once… about my dad,” I started, and Claude’s fake smile faded. “He said that when he was younger, back when he was my dad’s squire, my dad got really drunk and started spewing all sorts of nonsense. Told him that, at the time, he was over a hundred years old. And Alois just assumed he was joking because he was so drunk, and my dad did tend to get a little silly when he drank too much. I mean, compared to how he usually was.”

“Over a hundred?” Claude repeated.

“And he told Alois the secret, too. Said that he had been given an infusion of Crest-bearing blood that extended his lifespan,” I continued. “And do you know what his Crest is?”

Claude’s eyes widened. It clicked. I knew it would, knew it wouldn’t take him long to piece all the information together. It was naïve of me to be telling this story—first, because I couldn’t confirm whether the story was true or not. Maybe my father really _was_ just drunk out of his mind and spewing a bunch of nonsense. Second, because if this Claude was an imposter, I didn’t know what kind of information I was giving him.

But I couldn’t help it. I said in anger that I didn’t know if Claude was one of them, one of the enemies. I didn’t… no… I didn’t really mean it.

Claude came to the conclusion I wanted him to see. “The Crest of Seiros.”

“And you know who else has it?”

“Rhea.”

I nodded. “Rhea saved his life when they first met, before he became the captain of the Knights of Seiros, however long ago that was. See what I’m getting at?”

“Why are you telling me this? You knew this before, when we were talking about it earlier, and you didn’t say anything. Why now?” Claude asked. His tone was not accusing. He wasn’t angry with me or even annoyed. But I did think he was hurt, and that was something one could not so easily forget.

I put a hand on his shoulder. “Goodbye, Claude.”

I began to walk past him, weapon in hand, goal in heart, determined to not look back no matter what.

“Teach!”

But I did. When he called my name—no, not my name, but who I was to him and always would be—I turned back and looked at him. He was a true adult now. He was a king, a man with a wife, a master tactician. But when I looked at him, all I would ever see was a student. Just like when he looked at me, all he saw was a teacher.

“We’ll find you.”

I smiled at him. “I look forward to it.”

And when I turned forward this time, I didn’t look back. I didn’t know if Claude followed me out, if he walked me to the gate, if he watched as I disappeared from view. But what I did know was that he wouldn’t be there to help me. Even though I couldn’t trust him—or doubted myself to fully do so—I knew he trusted me. And he would let me do what I needed to do now.

I would get them back, just like I knew, dead or alive, Dimitri and Claude would get me back, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is on the short side, but I hope you enjoy nonetheless. Please drop a comment to let me know what you think!


	12. Into the Lair

**Chapter Twelve – Into the Lair**

“Well, that didn’t take long. You must really love him—or one of them, at least.”

I barely made it out of the territory belonging to the Garreg Mach Monastery and into the very edges of what had formerly been the Varley territory when the same mysterious man as always appeared before me. He did not seem the least bit spent, meaning he had either not been involved in the events just hours earlier or they truly outmatched our forces. I hoped for the former given the options.

“You made me walk all this way. Any particular reason why you couldn’t have just saved me the trouble and visited Garreg Mach?” I asked. The man smiled at me. It reminded me a little of the way Hubert used to smile at me, like he had all sorts of secrets that would make my skin crawl.

“Do you really want to exchange secrets here?” He gestured around at the land surrounding us. Given the geography of Fódlan and the mountains to the north, Varley territory was the driest of all the former Adrestian Empire. Vegetation didn’t grow here particularly well, leaving the expanse before us rather open. As a battlefield, it wasn’t anything compared to the nearby Gronder Field because of the slopes from the mountains, but it would suffice given necessity.

Now, though, the open valley was dotted with the bodies of the fallen. There was no evidence that the Agarthans had dropped another javelin of light, given that the land was intact. But they must have attacked suddenly and massively, eliminating our troop with a unified attack that overwhelmed them before they could even draw their swords. Most of the bodies still held their swords in their sheaths.

But the one thing in common among these knights was the unusual blistering of skin that had occurred on the men and women back in Hrym territory. Like those rebels, the exposed flesh of these soldiers was crackling and peeling back, revealing the muscle below stained black, not as though burned but as though rotting. It was the touch of dark magic, magic far stronger than whatever Annette had been attempting. I doubted she would have succeeded at casting the spell surreptitiously given how advanced these people were.

I wanted to do something for the fallen soldiers, but I feared there was nothing I could do to give them an honorable death.

“Perhaps it would be better to do so later,” I agreed. “One thing, though. I think by now I have the right to know your name. You know mine—both of them.”

“That I do, Sothis. I am but a mere descendant of the original Agarthans, so I am not nearly as special as the others. To know my name would bestow an honor upon me of which I do not deserve.” His fake smile, not unlike Claude’s in hiding whatever it was he actually felt, twitched slightly, but he managed to keep it up.

“You’re not one of the original Agarthans?” I repeated. “Then why do you hold such a grudge against the Nabateans?”

“Again, I ask, you would like to hold this conversation here?” He took a step towards me and held out his hands. “Your weapons. And remember that you are not in a position to refuse.”

I handed him the Sword of the Creator, followed by the sheath holding my silver sword and the bow and arrows. He seemed to struggle immediately with the weight of the Sword of the Creator. In the hands of someone who could not use it, it was heavier than it was to me. That, paired with the other weapons, made him look awkward instead of his usual self.

“Name?” I asked once more.

He wrapped the belt for the sheath around his shoulder with the bow and quiver, and then returned his gaze to mine. I wondered if, being a descendant of the Agarthans, his ultimate goals in this didn’t line up the same with the others. Was this a piece of information I could use to my advantage?

“Adonis.”

He put a hand on my shoulder, and the world shattered around us. I had seen Edelgard and the others she conspired with teleport before, perhaps through the dark magic gifted to them by the Agarthans, but I had never experienced it for myself. It wasn’t the same as being sent to Zahras and then ripping my way back from it. No, this was like being pulled through time and space itself, all in less time than I could blink. I barely had a moment to process it before my vision settled and I realized I was someplace else.

It took a second for my eyes to adjust to the darkness around me. There was light, but it was not flame or sun that provided it. I could see no lanterns or lamps lighting the streets around me, but it was as if the roads themselves were light. No, not quite. Some sort of bluish glow emitted from what might have been cracks in the road, along with more bluish light from the walls of buildings surrounding us.

But it was as if we had been transplanted through time to night because when I looked up, I saw no sky, no sun, no stars. It was only a pitch-black canvas above us, like a blanket stretching from one side of the horizon to another. Yet the buildings around us stood tall but didn’t quite seem to reach the mysterious sky, making it seem much higher above us than I thought.

I didn’t know where we were, but it was clear this was no ordinary place. Did Adonis drag me to another world, like Solon had done when he cast the forbidden spell of Zahras? No, this wasn’t like that. He would’ve had to cast a spell, and he had teleported the same way I saw Edelgard do. But why did it look so different from the rest of Fódlan I knew?

“Welcome to Shambhala,” Adonis said, holding out his arm free from the Sword of the Creator and allowing me into this world around us.

“What is this place?”

He gestured for me to follow him, and not having much of another choice, I obeyed. “I admit I do not find humans so different from us. We, too, are seekers of answers. Always asking questions, always looking for reason to make sense of the world. The only difference really is that we clung to that knowledge and bettered ourselves, while you…” Adonis glanced over his shoulder at me and laughed mockingly. “Well, you believe in fairy tales about false goddesses to make yourselves feel better about your failures.”

“To be fair, my father raised me without religion. Now that I think about it, that was probably because he knew deep down what Rhea had done to me and wanted to spare me the pain of all that. But I spent most of my life not even knowing what the Church of Seiros was…” I smiled when I thought of my father, which he wouldn’t have believed back then. “What did that make those of us who didn’t, then?”

Adonis didn’t seem to have an answer for me. But I knew. We were the victims, the innocent who got slaughtered in the never-ending war between the Nabateans and the Agarthans. They got the humans involved in their conflict, time and time again. Their hands were in everything. And for the ones who never wanted to pick a side, they were just the hopeless fallen.

“What’s the next step?” I continued. “I came with you here. You set my friends free, and I do whatever you want. Something with my blood, isn’t it?”

Adonis, who had the blessing of looking naturally judgmental at all times, narrowed his eyes to amplify the effect. “I don’t think you’re in a position to bargain.” He held the Sword of the Creator up, examining it from a multitude of angles before lowering it to his side again. “But I’ll bite. You know what this is, don’t you? Did Seiros tell you that much at least?”

In the distance, beyond Adonis in front of me, I could see people walking by. The light was not enough to make out their features, but they had to be more Agarthans. I doubted they would allow simple prisoners the right to walk around freely. But how many were there? The only one I met since this all began was Adonis, and he claimed to be a “mere” descendant, meaning there were original Agarthans alive, as well.

I turned my attention back to Adonis before he could notice my snooping. “Sothis. Or… part of her.”

“And who do you think forged these weapons? A simple-minded fool like Nemesis could never have created such a weapon. The same holds true of the other Hero’s Relics, as well. But the unique qualities of the Sword of the Creator set it apart from the others—namely that only the one with the Crest of Flames could wield it.” Adonis held the weapon out to me, and when I grabbed it, it glowed with an ethereal red light. A perfect contrast of the blue light of Shambhala.

One might think it brave that Adonis would hand such a powerful weapon, one that only I could wield, back to me, but the fact of the matter was that he couldn’t have used it, anyway. It was useless in his hands. If I wanted my family to survive, I couldn’t make a move. There were other witnesses here—he _wanted_ me to see those other Agarthans behind him.

All the same, I could not risk my self-control. I passed the weapon back to him. “And I bear the Crest of Flames. Do you simply need me to wield the weapon for you?”

“Not quite. Consider for a moment _why_ you bear the Crest of Flames. Why do any of the descendants of the Ten Elites bear crests?”

Why? Well, it was true that the crests were transferred via blood, but because the ties weakened over time, the chance of being born with a crest had diminished. Hence why the Fódlandy nobility put such emphasis on it—they were rare, they were more powerful, they were wielders of the relics. But it was a status symbol more than anything. And for all the wrong reasons.

“I don’t know,” I responded.

“Because _we_ made it so.”

We turned around what I could only describe as a street corner, bearing left onto an even wider street with buildings on all sides of us. We had finally caught up with the people ahead of us, and I could see now that they had that same eerie look to them that the others did. Like Solon or Adonis, these people appeared other-worldly somehow in appearance, like they weren’t quite human and yet almost entirely so.

“I don’t understand.”

“I would have thought you of all people would,” Adonis said sharply. “The crests of your friends are named for the Ten Elites, but those fools were not the original owners of such power. That came from the Nabateans. When they were removed from this world, we harvested their blood and gave it to those who would become the Ten Elites. Then we forged the relics and gave them to those whose blood now carried that of the original owner. But only one—only the Crest of Flames—came from the goddess herself.”

I didn’t quite understand. I grew up ignorant of so much of the world. I knew nothing of the church or crests or any of the legends of old. And it seemed now that there was still a great deal of information that Rhea never shared with me even after she told me she did.

I did not doubt that Adonis told me the truth. While he perhaps had every reason to lie and even more to hate me for my connection to Sothis, there was just something about him that seemed… calculated. Like this knowledge being given to me would all lead to something that would help him in the long run.

“So, what, you want my blood? You want to give more people the Crest of Flames so that more people can wield the Sword of the Creator? And what would be the end goal of all that?” I asked.

My skepticism didn’t seem to faze Adonis, though, for he merely smiled. “Humans are fragile creatures. You can’t just take a fraction of their blood and give it to another and expect a crest to appear. We have performed hundreds of experiments to perfect the process. And our greatest achievement of all failed us.”

Edelgard…

“The Crest of Flames can be inherited in two ways: through birth—which, as I recall, neither of your offspring was born with it—or through transplant,” Adonis continued.

My stomach seemed to sink within me, and a sudden wave of nausea ran through me. My children… how did he know that neither of my children bore the Crest of Flames? How long had they been watching, biding their time for the perfect opportunity to strike?

Still, I had one thing to be thankful for: that neither of my kids had my crest. If they had, surely the Agarthans would have been after them, too.

“And?” I pressed.

“You and your husband destroyed our chance during the war of finalizing our revenge. With the murder of Thales, who you may remember as Lord Arundel, much of the knowledge of the next phase of our plan vanished. This was why we had to wait so long to reappear. We had to reconstruct a solution using what Thales left behind, and even then, it was incomplete. Only now do we have an idea of what to do next.”

Lord Arundel? Oh, Dimitri’s and Edelgard’s uncle. If he was connected to the Agarthans, too, that connected another pair of dots—why the donations to the church stopped, for one. Sothis had suggested that Arundel died, and that was why the donations ceased. But then we met him alive and well—only… well, Arundel _had_ died, it seemed, only to be replaced with another imposter.

And if he was Thales… I remembered that man now. He had been the one to stop me from interfering with Kronya’s murder of my father. Another Agarthan, as inhuman as the rest. We had seen him once with the “Flame Emperor” talking, too.

It was a lucky coincidence that we killed him, but clearly it had only set them back several years, not permanently.

“And what will you do next?” I asked.

Adonis glanced at me out of the corner of his eyes. “In due time, Sothis.”

He led me up some steps to a large stone building and held the door open for me. The appearance inside was not so different from its outside; the blue tones still served as their form of light, with dark stone forming most of the interior as well. The furniture in the entryway appeared to be carved from stone, too, but there were furs and other materials set on top as cushions.

We continued down a long hallway to some contraption that brought us down below the building. It felt like we went down forever. And the further down we got, the weirder it all felt—like I had the weight of everything on top of me pressing down slowly on my body. I wondered for a moment if we were underground. Not just by going downstairs, but if this entire place, this Shambhala, was underground.

Could they build an entire civilization underground? It seemed like a fantasy. No one could possibly survive like this for a thousand years.

Except, it seemed they had.

The sinking contraption finally stopped, and Adonis led me out to what appeared to be an open room filled with people. My eyes connected almost immediately with those of my husband’s, and I ran forward towards him, only to be stopped by a glass wall that spanned from floor to ceiling. I wondered if Dimitri had thought to hit it, knowing his brute strength could easily shatter glass, but I had to expect that he had tried that already given the bloodied makeshift bandage around his right hand.

“Dimitri,” I said, placing my hand on the glass. He put his on the other side. His fingers were longer than mine, his palm wider. There were calluses on it, just like on mine, and I could almost feel the warmth of his skin touching mine. But I knew that was just an illusion made by memory.

His lips moved, but I heard nothing. Then Felix, then Sylvain, and soon Annette, Dedue, Ashe, Gustave, Ingrid were all there, too. There was a rush of emotions that flew through their faces in seconds—first, what had to be excitement at seeing me, perhaps even hope. But that faded quickly when they realized the reason I was here, that I had to have given myself up. Horror, then, maybe even guilt. Annette began to tear up.

“They do not know where we are. So, they can spend their whole lives searching for you, but still they will never find you. If you wish for them to be released, then so be it,” Adonis said.

Dimitri’s lips moved again, followed by Annette’s. I watched a silent conversation flow back and forth. Dimitri, being overly chivalrous these days to make up even now for his behavior during the war, was likely discussing the possibility of staying behind. If he did, Annette could place a tracking spell on him, and they could come back for us.

It would never work. The Agarthans saw through everything. They would never allow it.

“Can I say goodbye?” I asked, looking over my shoulder at Adonis.

“I’m afraid not. Allowing you the chance to speak would be dangerous. I know that you are fine to offer yourself up, but I cannot say the same of those who love you. Ah, and so many do. You were a good professor, weren’t you?” He smiled at me, mockingly so, and I frowned as I returned my gaze to the glass.

“I was.”

Adonis stepped forward and put a hand on the glass, just like me. “Remove your hand.”

I did, staring at Dimitri on the other side and wishing terribly that I could say goodbye. The only thing I could do was mouth to him, knowing he could not hear me either way, “Take care of the kids.”

And in a matter of seconds, the lot of them was gone. I could not feel my heart beat, but I could feel it ache all the same.

Adonis dropped his hand from the glass and turned to me. “A deal is a deal, is it not, Sothis?”

I nodded, unable to find my voice to say anything more.

“Then allow us to begin. We will be taking that crest of yours—and I’m afraid, with it, your life.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You get an update today because I’m having surgery on Saturday and won’t be able to access a computer all weekend. Wish me luck!


	13. Betrayals

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! The surgery went quite well, and I am back in action. Thank you for all your well wishes. They are much appreciated! Enjoy the new chapter and let me know what you think.

**Chapter Thirteen – Betrayals**

When Lysithea first told me about the experiments they endured from the mysterious mages holding her family essentially hostage, I never understood—_truly_ understood—why she would let them. Lysithea watched her siblings die and still did not fight back against these people, knowing very well that she could die, too.

And then it came out that she was not the only one. Edelgard, too, was victim to the experiments of these people. For me, an outsider, I couldn’t wrap my head around the idea.

But now I did. I understood exactly why both Lysithea and Edelgard allowed themselves to be part of these experiments because I was about to do the same. When it came down to it, it was about making ourselves martyrs. We would protect our families if it meant sacrificing ourselves, because at least if the Agarthans went after us and were successful, we could potentially prevent them from going after our families in the end.

I was the only one with the Crest of Flames, meaning that there was no one left to bother if they were unsuccessful, anyway. Yet there was no guarantee that they would leave my family alone if they failed. Maybe they would go after my children just in case they carried a trace of my power.

After allowing my family and friends to go free from their prison here in Shambhala, Adonis led me to a new location in the same building. He took me on yet another moving mechanism that brought us lower still, the pressure building above us.

“You said that you plan on taking my crest, but how do you do that?” I asked.

Lysithea bore two crests, meaning her second one came from someone else. Adonis seemed to think that taking my crest could kill me, meaning that in their experiments, not only did the recipient of the crest die in most cases, but the person who lost the crest also perished in the process. That Lysithea survived was hope that the process to take the crest away might also not be fatal.

Except… well, my heart didn’t beat. If my crest was the only thing keeping me alive, the only thing keeping blood pumping in my veins, then I probably _couldn’t_ survive.

“We’ve harvested many crests in our time,” Adonis told me. “Thales had been the expert in that field. His magic was unmatched. He could pull a crest from a body as easily as pulling out a piece of hair. It took but moments.” Adonis sighed and glanced over his shoulder at me as if to make sure I still followed him. “Our mages now struggled for years to figure it out. It is not nearly as painless as it had been when Thales did it, but it has been managed in all cases but one.”

“And the one?”

“The body was fragile. You needn’t worry about that.”

If the person died anyway, it seemed an inconvenience to them more than anything that it didn’t work. I wondered how many innocent people had suffered at the hands of these people. One would have thought that, given the rarity of crests these days, we would have heard of nobles vanishing.

During the war, though, they did. Nobles vanished all the time. And since the war concluded, nobles continued to renounce their titles, some out of fear of retribution from Dimitri, and some because they wanted more from their lives than whatever life had been given to them prior. And we never thought a thing of it.

“We have a surprise for you, Byleth,” Adonis announced as we continued down a long hallway. There were doors on either side of us, all shut tight, but I could hear tinkering beyond them. Perhaps there were more victims in there, people who found themselves in the wrong place at the wrong time, who became lab rats for the people who could not let go of a grudge unrelated to those who existed today.

I was not pleased to hear of a surprise because it surely was not a good one. I noted, too, that Adonis referred to me by _my_ name this time, not as Sothis as he had been doing. Whatever the surprise was, it was meant for me, meant to hurt _me_. And like the others, I was mixed into a family drama I never should have been part of. It all seemed so unfair.

Near the end of the hall on the right was a door left open, and Adonis held a hand out to allow me entry. I steeled myself for whatever was inside, but not enough time or preparation in the world could prepare me for what—or who—I found inside.

“Didn’t anyone ever tell ya not to trust the Almyrans?”

Cyril.

I stepped forward and reached for his hands, but he took a step away from me with his lip curled in disgust. “Don’t touch me, you cretin. You’re no better than a maggot.”

No. He was always so sweet. Such a hard worker. Sure, he was a little rough around the edges, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t a good person. He didn’t deserve an end where someone else played his part. No one deserved that.

“You monsters,” I hissed. I spun around and knocked the Sword of the Creator from Adonis’s grip, latching onto it midair and pressing the blade against the imposter’s throat. I pressed him backwards until he hit the wall, and he sneered at me in a way I never thought Cyril could.

“Careful, Professor. Ya know Lady Rhea would be upset if ya killed me.”

“You’re not Cyril,” I countered, pressing the blade harder against his throat. A trickle of blood slipped down his neck.

“No,” the imposter agreed. “But he’s been a lot of fun. For a teacher at the monastery, though, you would have thought he would have put up more of a fight. The poor kid practically _let_ me take his life. And how predictable a life he leads. I’ve been playing his role for several moons now, and no one suspected a thing. Even you were out there second-guessing all your friends and probably never once did Cyril even form a doubt in your mind.”

“He’s not even involved in this!” I shouted.

“Well, certainly not anymore.” Cyril’s hand reached up and pushed the Sword of the Creator down, and I almost let him for a moment, forgetting myself and who this really was. I twisted it slightly, hitting the man’s palm and forcing him to let go.

“He got involved the moment he devoted his life to Seiros,” Adonis said, coming up from behind me and grabbing my shoulders. He pulled me down, knocking me back into a chair and doing some quick magic to lock me in. With me immobile, he slipped the Sword of the Creator from my hands and wiped it clean. A smear of the imposter’s blood was left on the cloth Adonis used.

“And we kind of need her dead,” Cyril’s voice said. “I was hoping that he would be able to get to her, seeing as he’s practically her little dog. But no one seems to know where she is. So, if we’re going to finish what we started a thousand years ago, we’re going to need a little bit of help.”

Adonis positioned the Sword of the Creator directly above my thigh, the tip just centimeters above. “I tried to warn you, you know. I told you that there was someone among your ranks who wasn’t with you, and you chose to ignore my warning. You wouldn’t be in such a state of shock right now if you only listened.”

He thrust the sword down, piercing through my skin and straight to the bone. Immobilized in this state, I could not scream, but tears still dripped from the corners of my eyes as my body reacted to the pain. He pulled the sword back out, looking at the blood that pooled at the wound with narrowed eyes.

“Everything looks normal,” he told Cyril.

“Not quite,” a third voice said. A woman came into view, her face veiled with a large cloth that covered her entire head. She made a noise as if she was sniffing the air and the walked to my side, putting one hand on my stomach. “She’s with child.”

_What?_

The fainting spells… the dizziness… they weren’t related to the Agarthans at all, were they?

“Oh?” Cyril laughed. “It’s kind of uncomfortable to think about my teacher getting busy.”

“She’s not your teacher,” Adonis snapped, and then he looked at the woman. “Are you sure?”

The woman waved a hand over my leg where Adonis stabbed it, and the pain immediately ceased. “I can feel the presence of another crest.”

“Another Crest of Flames?” Adonis asked hopefully.

“All I know is that there is another crest, not which one it is. Crest of Flames, Crest of Blaiddyd… I cannot tell.” The woman put her hand back on my stomach and sniffed once more. “If you were to try to remove the crest from her now, you could risk the life of the child within. You must refrain from performing the experiment now.”

Adonis’s hopeful expression faded quickly, and Cyril’s imposter crossed his arms with a huff.

“Who cares? We only need one Crest of Flames,” Cyril argued, but Adonis held up a hand. For a “mere” descendant, it seemed he had a great deal of power here.

“If we fail, having a backup could be beneficial,” he said.

No… no, they weren’t going to have the both of us. They could torture me all they wanted, but they were never going to be allowed to torture my child.

“So, what, now we have to babysit her for the next… seven, eight months? She’s not even showing,” Cyril pointed out, and all three stared down at my stomach as if expecting something to pop out of it. “The longer we wait around, the more opportunity she has to fight back. She’s a mother—she’s going to put that baby first, regardless of whatever else we hold over her head. Humans are like that.” He sighed. “We should’ve just waited after all. What a pain.”

I bent my toes inside my shoes. The spell was wearing off. I needed them to keep talking, to think about what to do with me.

“We don’t need to babysit her,” Adonis said. “Just throw her in a cell and lock her up.”

“She needs proper exercise and nutrition if the baby is to come to term,” the woman countered.

I could feel the tips of my fingers against my sides. A little bit more.

“Women are such pains. I have to tell you, I was positively elated that this Cyril kid didn’t have a girlfriend or anything. Lots of the female students threw themselves at him, which was flattering, don’t get me wrong.” The imposter rubbed Cyril’s chin. “But they’re such a hassle. Constantly asking for extra help and making me tea. I hate tea! I wanted coffee!”

Adonis was ignoring him now, moving to the other side of me to stand next to the woman. The Sword of the Creator was beyond my reach now, but if I could get my arms to move, I might be able to grab _something_.

“What do you recommend?” he asked the woman as Cyril continued to ramble to no one.

“Let her stay. Let her be here. She has no weapon. If she tries to leave, we kill her other children when they return from Almyra,” the woman said.

I reached up, breaking the charm, and grabbed my silver sword from the sheath around Adonis’s waist. My limbs didn’t function correctly still, but it mattered not. Adonis was so taken by surprise that he never saw my sword coming towards his neck, and he was dead before his body hit the floor.

The woman vanished, fleeing from the room before I could take care of her. But the man in Cyril’s body fumbled with his hands, trying to figure out what exactly to do as I turned on him.

“I’m sorry Cyril, but I guess you’re dead anyway,” I whispered, and swung the sword across his chest.

The blood pooled on the dark floor, and I stepped across the bodies to leave the room. I could feel my shoes slipping on the floor with each step, the traction worsened by the blood seeping into my soles. I let the blood drip from the tip of the sword, then dropped it in exchange for the Sword of the Creator.

I probably didn’t have a lot of time. The woman would have gone ahead to warn the other Agarthans, maybe shut down whatever she could. Sure enough, the floating platform that would have brought me back up wasn’t moving, leaving me stranded here without a way out.

No, there had to be another way. They wouldn’t have a single way in and out.

I opened the door closest to the moving platform, revealing not much of anything. Another room like the one I was in, empty save for a chair used to confine their victims.

The tinkering behind the doors I heard was not the sound of experimentation, I discovered as I opened more doors. There were all sorts of devices behind several of the doors in the middle like nothing I had ever seen. They released flickering blue light that faded until it was completely gone by the time I made it to the last such room. And when that light died, so did everything else.

Suddenly I was left in pitch darkness. I put a hand to the wall, feeling forward until I found the doorway to leave the room. No matter what direction I faced: darkness. I could hardly remember which way I came from, which doors I already opened. Was I really trapped down here? How long before the Agarthans found me? Or were they already after my family in the outside world?

I breathed in and out slowly, centering myself for some magic. I lit a fire in the palm of my hand, providing soft light that allowed my eyes to adjust to the darkness around me. I wouldn’t be able to keep this up long. I needed to find a way out before anyone else found me.

Somehow, though, I ended up moving in the wrong direction and ended up back at the moving—now stationary—platform. But as I got closer, I noticed something odd. There was a barely-noticeable blue light coming from the platform now that I got near, and the closer I stepped, the brighter it got.

I extinguished my flame, and the light on the platform vanished, too.

Was their technology powered by magic? My fire magic wasn’t powerful enough to power the platform, but maybe I had some other trick up my sleeve that was…

If I tried this and it failed, I wouldn’t have enough energy left to light another flame. But it was the only trick I had.

I stepped onto the platform and took several deep breaths this time. I didn’t like to use Ragnarok, as it exhausted me given my preference for the sword and my lack of practice with magic, but it was the most powerful spell I knew, and I could use it successively enough to hopefully power this thing back up to the top.

But we had taken another lift back to the entry level of this building… well, hopefully I could conserve enough energy to manage it.

I put my hands palm-down towards the floor. The burst of fire exploded from my hands, nearly sending me tumbling over, but it was enough to power the lift. It rose and rose and rose, sending me higher through the building before slowing down and halting altogether. I tried again—I never realized how far we descended in this place—and still I was not at the top.

No… I didn’t have enough in me to make it to the top of this section, never mind a second one.

_Have I taught you nothing?_

The voice startled me. It had been a long time since I heard it, but even so, I couldn’t figure out if it was my mind playing tricks or the real thing. Was I imagining what she would say? Chastising me yet again for not figuring out what I should have by now?

But real or not, I knew what I needed to do. How long had it been since I entered this place? I needed to go back far enough to let my friends escape but not too far back that I was still this far down. In fact, I could make it so the power was still on.

I focused my attention once more, but it was a different sort of magic than the type I casted. This was magic that was within my being, not so much magic as utter control.

Time shifted. The world around me warped, as if I was being stretched and compressed simultaneously, and when I next blinked, I found myself back in the room with the glass cell. Dimitri and the others were already gone, but Adonis’s hand was still pressed against the glass.

He looked back at me. “A deal is a deal, is it not, Sothis?”

_Teach him what it means to cross a goddess._

In one swift motion, I kicked his legs out from under him. He fell back, hitting his head against the glass and sending the Sword of the Creator flying. I didn’t have time to go get it. Instead, I pulled my bow up, the bowstring catching around his neck. I could hear the crack of his neck as I twisted it, and any fight that Adonis still had in him was extinguished.

I walked over to the Sword of the Creator and picked it up.

“Sorry,” I said to the body on the floor, “but I guess I can’t uphold my end of the bargain.”


	14. Escape from Shambhala

**Chapter Fourteen – Escape from Shambhala**

I bought myself time, but I didn’t know how much and I didn’t know for what. My daring escape? I only arrived here in the first place through Adonis’s teleportation, so the only hope I had was that there was another exit somewhere. Maybe, like the manaketes’ inability to shift anymore, the Agarthans had no guarantee of teleporting after these hundreds of years had passed. A physical entrance would be necessary if that was true.

As I suspected, thanks to the turning back of time, the levitating platforms were still functioning. The woman must have ceased the supply of magic to them when she escaped before. But in this new scenario I invented, Cyril remained, most likely still in that room waiting for Adonis to bring me to him. Maybe that man wouldn’t piece together the information, but I suspected the woman would. How long would she wait before realizing something was wrong.

Even if the Divine Pulse bought me fifteen minutes, maybe thirty if I was lucky, the Agarthans would know something was amiss when they saw me alone. I didn’t have the luxury of time to stealth it out of here, so I would need to count on the fact that I had strength alone on my side now.

And not just the strength of one crest…

I wasn’t sure if the presence of a second crest within me did anything. Alexi had no crest, and his pregnancy had not been a pleasant one for me. I was on bedrest for nearly a month of it, which was almost more than poor Dimitri could handle. My pregnancy with Katrina went more smoothly—but I never attributed that to the fact that she had a crest. But now I had to wonder… was the reason the pregnancy went better because of the power of her crest?

I hadn’t exactly had the opportunity to test out my strength while I was pregnant with Katrina. The family physician was strict about how much I exerted myself given the difficulty of my pregnancy with Alexi. There were no battles for those nine months, save for verbal ones made worse by my irritability at meetings with the cardinals. I never got so much done, if only because the cardinals feared my hormones.

Well, one thing was for sure: I was about to test my hypothesis out now. I knew this baby had a crest, so what did that do for me?

The ride up to the ground level floor of the building seemed to go on forever. It was all in my head, and yet I couldn’t stop hearing the ticking of the clock around me.

And when that platform stopped… the ticking stopped, too.

No one noticed me step out of the building. There were plenty of people around, plenty of these people with their stretchy skin and lack of humanity. But no one so much as looked my way. I tried to blend in, moving against the edges of the dark buildings where they might not see me.

I soon realized it didn’t matter if _they_ saw me. The Agarthans were unconcerned. No human had ever made it here on their own, and surely none had ever made it out alive. What did it matter to them if one measly creature like me wandered about?

Because, like any insect that crawled where it was not wanted, they would be crushed in the end.

I didn’t see the giant mechanical beast right away. It was blended in with the metallic sheen of the surrounding area. But then I noticed what appeared to be an entire building moving. The thing shifted, rumbling with a whirring of gears to life, and the giant mechanism stirred forward.

It wasn’t particularly fast, but when something that large barreled towards you with no warning, you couldn’t help but stand dumbfounded for a moment. I only rolled out of the way when it didn’t seem to be slowing down and its right arm suddenly began to glow not unlike the Sword of the Creator.

That was when I ran. Because it was not one of these mechanical beats that appeared. The red glow of two, then three, then four more swords appeared, and I knew I would never be able to take on five of these things. Maybe one. Maybe even two. But not more than that.

The reason the Agarthans didn’t need to react to my presence was because of these things. Whatever they were, they surely had not let down their masters before.

I had been running with no rest for nearly ten minutes when I ducked into an alleyway to catch my breath. I wouldn’t be afforded much time here. Surely someone would have seen me stop here and would redirect the metal monsters my way. But whatever time I had, I would use.

How could I get out of here? If my intuition was correct, and we were underground, that meant that the only way out of here was up. I hadn’t had the luxury of paying much attention to my surroundings while I ran, given that I was dodging giants ever corner, but I had to imagine that there was some part of this place—this Shambhala—that touched the world above. But where?

_Oh, come now. You’re supposed to be smarter than this. Use that brain of yours and think._

“Sothis?” I whispered.

No response. I couldn’t tell if it really was Sothis talking to me or if it was all in my head—just me simply thinking what I expected her to say.

Regardless of who it was, I followed the advice. There would be some connection between this place and the outside world. Given the influence that the Agarthans had over the Empire, I suspected that Shambhala had to be somewhere within former Empire territory. And if they never wanted anyone ever actually stumbling upon it, this place had to be buried pretty deep.

What better place that under some mountains? It was the perfect defense.

And why would they target Hrym? Because they were right next door.

This was all conjecture. Even so, how did it help me? I could make it back to Garreg Mach within a day if I made it out of here alive, but that was a pretty big if considering the giants they had after me. And knowing where I was didn’t make any difference if I couldn’t find an exit.

If this was a mountain, an exit would make the most sense from the side where the walls were thinnest, so I wouldn’t necessarily need to go up. Which left any possible direction being an option to make it out of here…

But all I needed to do in that case was find the perimeter of the city. If I could make it to the edge, I would merely need to follow along the outside until I found an exit. It wasn’t ideal, but it was a better idea than I had. Besides, I wouldn’t need to worry about the giant mechanical monsters killing me. The Agarthans needed me alive, at least for now, until they could take my crest.

Having caught my breath enough, I emerged from the alley in a brisk walk. There were no enemies upon me yet. I turned around the corner of the building on the right forming the alley and entered a main road. It extended farther than I could see, which gave me hope it brought me to the edge.

I had but a moment to enjoy my walk, though, as an explosion of rock burst to my right. A mechanical beast swung his bladed arm with such strength that he destroyed the corner of that building I just emerged from behind.

Maybe it didn’t matter to them if they killed me or not…

I began my sprint once more. This was the one advantage I had over those things. Each step for them covered nearly ten of mine, but it took a great deal of effort. In the time that they took one step, I took fifteen, giving me a slight advantage to outrun them.

The edge of the city blurred right into the walls of the mountain. The blue light simply ceased where rock began, leaving very little light along the perimeter. But I had to imagine that whatever pathway they had out of this place was lit up with that same magic they used to power the city. And that would be my answer on how to get out of here.

The darkness was my own advantage, anyway. I walked along the wall, farthest from the blue light on the road. Only my shoes reflected a little of that light; the rest of me blended into the darkness. The mechanical beasts tracking me froze at the end of the road, the whirring of gears blaring as each one searched back and forth for me.

This was it… I could make it…

I walked now, making sure each step I took was silent and keeping one hand on the rocky wall to make sure I stuck to it. I stopped only when my hand slipped through nothing, a dark path with tiny blue lights in the distance.

“You found the entrance to Shambhala. How exciting.”

A shiver crawled up my spine, and I slowly turned around to face the voice. The veiled woman from the operation room stood with her hands folded in front of her. She had no weapon, save for perhaps some magic, but she didn’t appear eager to use it.

“Oh?” She stepped towards me, hands separating as she reached for my stomach. “Two crests… are you aware that you are pregnant?”

There was no time for negotiations. I could hope all I wanted that she would let me go. She was the one who wanted to wait to harvest my crest until the baby was born, after all. But that was just more leverage to hold over my head. She would either want to keep me here in the terrible city or let me go with a quid pro quo. My family would be in constant danger.

No, there was only one solution now.

As she put a hand on my stomach, I lifted the Sword of the Creator through it. The woman screamed, pulling back and lifting her damaged arm towards her face. I wouldn’t let her suffer through the pain. I was human, after all. I had a conscience.

I could tell she was about to leave, to flee like she had before. This was a woman who did not want to fight. But she was dangerous all the same. While the pain still left her in shock, I finished the job, a final scream echoing in the darkness of Shambhala.

This would get the attention of others. I needed to leave.

Without another look at the body I left behind, I fled down the pathway. There was hardly any light; the blue didn’t carry far, and it was spaced out too much to be any help. I tripped a few times, bloodying my hands on rocks as I tried to catch myself.

And then the end. I could see daylight filtering in through what appeared to be branches. It was a natural entrance, concealed in plain sight. I burst through it, collapsing to the ground when I officially made it out of Shambhala.

_No time to rest. Get up and get moving._

It annoyed me sometimes that Sothis was always right.

I pushed myself back up to my feet and looked back, trying to memorize this place. It was wooded, so a lower part of the mountain. But there would be no way for me to memorize this exact location—it looked like any other forest. The branches covering the entrance could have been anywhere, and no one would have stumbled upon it without some sort of map leading here.

No, I would need to be conscious of where I was going, make my own map of sorts in my mind. But I still didn’t know which direction to go.

I began walking. I could hear water somewhere. A stream? A river? The ocean?

I followed the sound, stopping only when I reached what had to be a river. I knew this river. It had to be the Airmid River, given the size of it. I could see the other side, but it would be impossible to swim. That would be old Alliance territory. These mountains were right on the edge of the Empire…

From where I stood, the water flowed to my right. I would need to travel up stream. Following the river would lead me directly back to the monastery.

I bought myself time, but that was about all I had. Given the location of the body of the woman I just killed, the Agarthans would know I successfully escaped. If they thought that risking a war with the Almyrans was worth having me back, they would go after my children next. I just killed the only person who knew I was pregnant, my only chance of saving my family some months of peace.

I picked up the pace, running along the edge of the river. My body was exhausted. I had to strain myself with every move. It was adrenaline only keeping me moving at this point. Sweat dripped down my face, and my head pounded. It couldn’t be good for the baby to push myself like this, but I had no choice.

The Great Bridge of Myrddin came into view after nearly three hours of running, walking, and generally floundering. I couldn’t make it back to the monastery. Not today. I was too exhausted. But there would be troops stationed at the bridge who would be able to give me shelter, if I could at least make it that far.

My knees gave out when I made it to the bridge. A soldier came sprinting towards me, all hell breaking loose when they noticed who I was. Suddenly I had knights from every direction lifting me up, strangers with their arms under my arms to help me walk. Voices around me began to blur together, shouting back and forth about the archbishop and the queen.

“Send a message to my husband,” I ordered, but my voice didn’t come out as strong as intended. Did it even come out at all? “And to…”

My voice trailed off. I couldn’t finish my thought. Where did I want to send a message?

They brought me to one of the bridge’s barracks. I had never actually been inside before. During the war, we took the bridge from the Empire’s control, but it had been a short visit merely to get us across into the Empire, a crossing point only.

Sleep fell over me the second I landed in the bed they made up for me. I didn’t bother undressing from my bloodied clothes. I didn’t even let the Sword of the Creator out of my hands. Armor and weapons all, I hit the pillow and let slumber take over.

I don’t know how long I slept, but it was dark out when I awoke, and someone was holding my hand. The Sword of the Creator was still in the bed, but it had slipped from my fingers. I grabbed it and sat up, eyes turned on whoever was by my side.

“Byleth!”

I barely got a look at Dimitri before he pulled me into him. I didn’t yell at him this time for squeezing me too hard. I dropped the sword and wrapped my arms back around him, too. Tears burned in the corners of my eyes, and I could tell from the way my husband’s shoulder shook that he was crying, too.

How many minutes passed with us like this? My sides began to ache from Dimitri’s strength, and I finally loosened my grip, which was a signal for him to let me go.

“My beloved,” he whispered, leaning his forehead against mine. “I thought…”

“Dimitri…” I touched his cheek, lifting my chin slightly so I could kiss him. “There’s a lot I need to tell you. But first we need to get Alexi and Katrina out of Almyra. The Agarthans know they’re there, and now that I escaped… I don’t want to run the risk.”

“I’ll send an express messenger,” Dimitri agreed. “Will you be all right for a moment?”

I nodded, watching my husband walk out of the barracks. I wiped my eyes dry, but only for a moment before my students all flooded the room. They must’ve known the only reason Dimitri would leave my side was if I was awake and gave him something to do.

“Professor!” Annette immediately burst into tears when she looked at me. “I’m so happy that it worked!”

“What are you talking about?” I asked as she threw her arms around my neck. “What worked?”

Felix sat at the foot of my bed, the closest he would ever get to showing affection for me. Sylvain planted a kiss on my cheek, which earned a smack from Ingrid, who smiled at me as she threatened her friend. Ashe, like Annette, was sobbing, and Dedue patted his shoulder consolingly.

“The spell,” Annette clarified with a hiccup. “Dimitri told me to cast the spell on _you_ back there, right before that guy sent us away. That’s how we knew you were here.”

“You didn’t get the messenger?” I asked.

“There was no messenger. As soon as Annette saw you moving, we did, too,” Felix said. “We would’ve met the messenger along the way if there was one.”

“We were real worried about ya,” a voice from the back of the group said.

Cyril stepped out from behind Dedue, and I held my breath for a moment. The Agarthans moved quickly. As soon as they knew I killed Adonis, this guy must have teleported back to Garreg Mach just to play the role again. He complained about being a babysitter, but here he was, filling the role.

Except he didn’t know I knew. That was before I used Divine Pulse to turn back time… for all he knew, I was still ignorant to the fact that Cyril was dead. I could use that. I could be the one to control _him_.

“The messenger has been sent. I sent one to Claude, too, back at the monastery so he was aware that Hilda might be in danger,” Dimitri announced as he entered the barracks again. He froze when he noticed all the people swarming me. “We should be giving her space.”

“It’s all right. I’m happy everyone is here,” I said, making eye contact with Cyril as I did.

The chorus of voices from my former students was like music to my ears. Dimitri worked his way through the group back to my side, holding my hand again while we chatted. I tugged him closer for a moment, whispering, “We need to talk. Alone.”

He looked at me with concern in his eye, before standing and clearing his throat. “If you would excuse us, everyone. Byleth has informed me that she is getting tired and would like to rest.”

“If you need me, Professor, I’ll be right outside,” Sylvain said with a wink.

“And I’ll make sure he’s _not_,” Felix grumbled, knocking Sylvain’s arm with his elbow.

“Bye, Professor. I’m really happy you’re okay,” Annette said.

“As am I. That was a little more nerve-wracking than I remembered,” Ashe added. “I guess it’s been awhile since I’ve been involved in any battles…”

“Should you request anything,” Dedue said with a bow, “please do not hesitate to let me know, Your Majesties.”

“Do ya want me to polish the Sword of the Creator, Professor? It’s looking a little… bloody,” Cyril offered, eyeing the weapon on my bed.

My eyes flickered to it and then back to Cyril, and I smiled. “That’s all right. I’ll get to it later.”

Cyril nodded and left the room with the others, leaving Dimitri and I alone again. The quiet was almost discomforting now, but the touch of my husband’s thumb running back and forth along my hand made me feel a little better.

“What happened back there, my love?” Dimitri asked after a moment, once he knew we were in the clear. Dedue would most likely be standing guard outside the room, so we had the privacy I needed. “Did they do anything to you?”

“There’s a lot I need to tell you… a lot I _haven’t_ told you…” I avoided his gaze now, instead staring at my bloodied weapon laying parallel to my legs.

“Haven’t?” Dimitri repeated.

I nodded. “Starting with the progenitor god. I saved your life countless times during the war by turning back time. And I did it again to save my own this time, and in doing so, I escaped Shambhala armed with knowledge they don’t know I have.”

Dimitri looked a little skeptical. I didn’t blame him. Hearing that I had the ability to turn back time would disturb any normal human, because no one except a god should have that sort of ability. Dimitri didn’t think of me, his beloved wife, as anything more than a normal human most of the time—but I wasn’t. I was human on the outside, but my soul was not.

“Turning back time?”

“When we first met, I was essentially killed when I protected Edelgard from the bandit. But Sothis saved me by turning back the hands of time, and in doing so, I retained the knowledge from that encounter and knew how to correct it. I only saved Edelgard, and myself, because of that power. The same is true of many of our battles during the war. I’ve watched our friends die dozens of times—I’ve watched _you_ die over and over again,” I admitted. “The only reason I seem like a capable strategist is because I use the ability to turn back time to my advantage, to correct our mistakes by finding another way.”

“Then… why…” he began, but I shook my head.

“The power is limited,” I interrupted before he could finish. “I can only turn it back so much and only for a limited amount of time. The most I’ve ever turned it back was about a half hour, and it exhausts me to use it.”

“Why have you never told me?” he asked. It stung hearing his voice like that—he was hurt. I didn’t think this sort of thing, keeping a secret like this, would wound him.

“It’s unusual, isn’t it? I just… didn’t want you to think of me as a freak… or as just a tool to use,” I said.

Dimitri squeezed my hand, and I finally looked back at him. I knew he realized that in his darkest moments during the war, he _would’ve_ used me as a tool. He would’ve pushed me to turn back time over and over again until he murdered Edelgard successfully at the Battle of Gronder Field, and he would have been stuck in that darkness forevermore. Everything would’ve changed.

And now? Well, it didn’t particularly benefit him. I was the only one who got anything out of it. Sothis always warned me not to use it for trivial matters, but I would admit that on particularly enjoyable nights with Dimitri, I might relive a moment or two. But I hadn’t any reason other than that in times of peace to use it—so why bring it up to him?

No, this was the only time that made sense to tell him, and I knew he would forgive me for withholding such a secret.

“What knowledge did you walk away with, then?” he asked.

I took his hand holding mine and flipped it, placing the palm of his hand on my stomach. “Most importantly… this.”

His eye flickered back and forth between his hand and my face, and then he began to laugh. He kissed me once, then again, and once more for good measure. Then he moved his other hand to my stomach, too, and leaned his head down to touch it.

“Katrina is going to lose her mind,” I joked, and Dimitri laughed again.

“She’s going to be the bossiest big sister,” he agreed.

He began to list all the things we would need to start preparing, and I smiled as I watched him stand up to pace around the room in a parental frenzy. I would leave him with these pleasant thoughts for now. He didn’t need to know, not yet, that this baby had a crest, one that the Agarthans would be after as soon as this child left the womb.

Because I knew exactly which crest it had.

_Ah, so you can use that brain of yours. Finally._

The Crest of Flames.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mercedes was going to be the imposter when I originally planned this story, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. She’s too sweet. So, poor Cyril needs to suffer. I like him a lot, but apparently, he’s one of the most hated characters in FE3H? Poor kid.


	15. Voices Within

**Chapter Fifteen – Voices Within**

I tried to fill Dimitri in on as much as I could without triggering him into a bout of homicidal rage, though he seemed rather placated by the knowledge that I was pregnant again. I told him that I knew exactly what they wanted with me, though I knew not their ultimate goal once they stole my crest; that the one who had been provoking me was dead, and I had the satisfaction of not only killing him once, but twice; that that person told the truth about there being an imposter here.

“Cyril?” Dimitri’s eyes flickered to the doorway. I remained confident that Cyril wasn’t anywhere near right now, given that Dedue was probably right outside. “Those monsters… I knew that they were capable of such heinous things, but… to do it to one of our own…” He stood and started to turn around, stopping only when I grabbed his hand. “We must eliminate him.”

“No,” I said. “Not yet, anyway. I want to use him. If we feed him false information about our plans, with the help of the others, we can start to be a step ahead of the Agarthans. This whole time we’ve been one step behind, but now we will be able to turn the tide in our favor.”

Dimitri sat back down and put a hand to his chin. He had always been incapable of growing a beard and kept his face with a clean shave, which I didn’t mind because I disliked kissing him with stubble. But he had this idolization of his father that I couldn’t compete with, and he kept trying to grow something. Right now, he had a few blond hairs on his chin where he placed his hand, and I prayed that he’d trim it off when we got home.

“You’re right, my love. This will give us time to prepare a plan. But do we tell the others? What if more of them are compromised?” he wondered.

I thought the same, as terrible as those thoughts were. If they got to Cyril, surely they could have gotten to the others, too. Adonis never indicated that Cyril was the only one, just that he had warned me about him, and I failed to listen. But I was hopeful that the remainder of our allies had not been taken, given that revealing more of them to me would have been further leverage back in Shambhala, which they could have used back there.

“I think we’re okay. We’ll keep it on a need-to-know basis to be safe.”

My husband nodded. I could practically see all the thoughts flashing through his mind. He was overwhelmed. Dimitri always had been brilliant at managing all that he needed to do as king, but there were many conflicting emotions being held at bay right now—excitement about our growing family, anxiety about the possibility of losing us, confusion about who we could trust, rage at the ones who started all this.

“Either way, I don’t think you should be alone with him, or anyone for that matter,” he said finally.

I opened my mouth to start to protest, but Dimitri held up a hand to continue.

“I know you do not like that, and I am not trying to say that you cannot handle yourself. Clearly you can,” he explained. “But with you knowing where their stronghold is and what they want, they are going to get desperate. Is that not the whole reason they mentioned knowing where our children are? They’re willing to go into Almyra now because you’ve messed up enough of their plans.”

“Oh. We need to talk to Claude.”

I started to shift my legs to the side of the bed to stand, but Dimitri put his hands on my shoulders and held me down. And if he wanted to hold me down with that strength of his, I wasn’t going anywhere.

“I think we’re best off returning to Garreg Mach and reorganizing. We can talk to Claude there. Let me go discuss with the others, and we’ll be off shortly. You need some rest, as well.” He stood and pulled the sheets up from the wad I made at the foot of the bed, tucking me in as though I was a child. “You have been putting yourself through unnecessary strain. And I know you won’t want to hear this, but now that we know you’re pregnant, I think you should—”

“Let’s talk about that later. Besides, you know I’ll win the argument. I always do,” I interrupted.

Dimitri rolled his eye and then kissed me on the forehead. “Of course you do. Good night.”

I watched him the whole way out of the room before lying back down. I wasn’t tired anymore, so just sitting here felt like a waste of time. I could walk out there right now and demand we leave, and as queen, I had that authority. But I couldn’t make my legs move this time, and my eyelids actually felt heavy again.

_Finally. I never thought he would leave. I have much to discuss with you._

I shot up, undoing the cocoon of blankets Dimitri folded around me.

_Ha. Do I still startle you so after all this time?_

“Sothis?” I asked.

_Are you expecting someone else?_

“It’s been a long time. I resigned myself to never hearing your voice again.”

Sothis’s voice laughed within my head. It was strange to hear her again after all this time. The last time I did was when her soul forged with mine, though I expected she was also the one who woke me up after my five-year slumber. Even if she was, even if that was truly her voice I heard, it had been years since then. I never thought I would hear her again.

Which was why I suspected—no, should I say “knew” at this point?—that my baby bore the Crest of Flames. If I could hear her, that had to mean her soul was transferring from me to another receptacle. Our bond was unraveling as the baby in my womb developed.

_I have always been with you. But I have missed the moments we shared talking together. So many times I wanted to interject and tell you the mistakes you were making, but I admit that maybe it was for the best. You do well at learning from your mistakes. I suppose you never needed me to hold your hand. Perhaps I only held you back by doing so._

“No, that’s not true,” I assured her. “I’ve missed your guidance. You always know what to say.”

_Thank you for saying that. But you don’t need me. You have done well on your own. Married a king and everything, I see._

I didn’t respond to that. Sothis had always been skeptical of Dimitri, probably because she sensed whatever darkness rested within him during our school days. She mentioned it on occasion, but I never took it to heart. If I had, I would have been better prepared for what I found in the Goddess Tower on the day of the Millennium Festival.

It all worked out in the end, of course, but if she had been there with me, would things have gone differently? Would she have known how to deal with Dimitri back then? Or would she have steered me away from him for my own protection?

“What did you want to discuss?” I asked, changing the subject away from my husband.

_Yes, well… you know why we are able to have this conversation right now, do you not?_

I put a hand on my stomach. I could hardly feel the bump, it was so subtle. One would think I simply had a large meal.

_Exactly. The child within you has allowed us to speak again now that its brain has begun to develop, though only temporarily. The moment the child is born, our connection will be permanently severed. And while I cannot say for sure, I suspect that means every aspect of our connection will be torn apart. Only one of you can serve as the vessel of the goddess. Do you understand?_

“But more than one person can bear the same crest,” I pointed out.

_True, and you will not lose yours. You will continue to be able to use the Sword of the Creator, and in time, so will this child. But the child will become my new vessel. Still, unless I gift my powers to him as I did to you, I can choose to just be a voice in his head._

“His?” I repeated. “A son?”

_Oh, did you not want to know?_

“It’s fine. Do you know how old?”

_About six weeks. You have a long journey ahead of you._

I wondered if I should relay all this information to Dimitri. Probably. It wouldn’t be fair to keep him out of the loop, and he would lose his mind with joy to find out he would be having another son. Though it would probably be best to refrain from telling the kids for now… Katrina would be heartbroken that she wouldn’t have a sister.

_Byleth, listen to me._

The casual tone of our conversation was gone now, replaced with one of urgency.

_You must be wary of the Agarthans. They will use whatever methods they can to get your crest. And while I cannot say why they want it, their thirst for revenge on my family outweighs anything else in their mind. You have escaped them once, meaning that they know what kind of threat you pose. And it will no longer be about manipulating you to come to them. They will murder your friends and family until you are the only one left._

“How do I stop them? I can’t just give myself over this time knowing what I do now. And if they know that I know where their stronghold is, I imagine they’ll abandon it,” I told her. There was no way they would make themselves sitting ducks for our armies. “It will make destroying their forces more challenging because we’ll have to find them again.”

_Yet they also will be unable to rely on their technologies in the same way as before. Which is another reason why they will not fight fair this round. They will destroy everything to get to you. You must be cautious._

“Are we safe at Garreg Mach? Do you know that?”

_I believe so. There must be special protections around it to prevent from outside attacks. They would have to infiltrate it and attack from the inside, and at that point, I imagine you would know they were coming._

I rose from my bed, holding the Sword of the Creator, and made my way over to the exit of the barracks. “Thank you, Sothis. I think it’s about time we started moving.”

_With haste. And listen to Dimitri—do not be alone with Cyril’s imposter._

* * *

We mobilized our group on the road to Garreg Mach within the hour. Dimitri had not been pleased seeing me out of bed so soon, but he agreed that the sooner we made it back to the monastery, the better. It took well over a day to make it back, but morale was back to normal since our captures. No one suspected for a moment that we were still being tricked.

Dimitri must have said something to Dedue, though, because the man of Duscur would not leave my side. If it was the need-to-know basis that we claimed, apparently Dedue needed to know. And that was fair enough—as Dimitri’s vassal and friend, it made sense to inform him of our predicament. I just wished Dedue would give me a little space. Sylvain tried to throw his arm over my shoulders, and Dedue nearly knocked him to the ground over it.

By the time we made it back to Garreg Mach, we were all dirty and tired, and I wanted nothing more than to soak in a hot bath just to wash myself of the violation I felt from being in Shambhala. It was late, the sun having set hours ago behind the mountains, so there was no point in holding a strategy meeting now.

“Teach!”

Claude greeted us at the main gates, and he jogged towards me. I thought for a brief moment that he might hug me, but he seemed to control himself and stopped an arms-length away from me instead.

“I’m glad you’re safe, Teach,” he said, but his face didn’t hold the same emotion his words conveyed. He looked solemn—he wasn’t even making an effort to mask it, like he usually did around the others.

“What’s wrong?”

He seemed surprised that I read him, as if he had tried to put up his guard but was unknowingly unsuccessful at it. He glanced around at the group and then stepped forward, putting a hand on my elbow and cocking his head towards the monastery.

“We need to talk. You, me, and Dimitri.”

It was serious, whatever it was. He didn’t usually refer to Dimitri by name.

We parted ways with the others, and as I began to stroll off with Claude and Dimitri—Dedue not far behind—I caught Cyril’s eyes. No one suspected anything, and for good reason. The imposter mastered his role. Cyril’s face, his eyes, looked right back at me, and all I saw was the boy who brought the monastery back from the brink of destruction with his own two hands.

I tore my gaze away and followed behind Claude. He led us to my own bedroom, the one place with ultimate privacy here, with the exception of Sothis eavesdropping in my head. Dedue posted himself outside the door, so we would still need to speak in whispers, but this would be the only place we could come with no chance of being interrupted.

We three stood in the center of the small room, all mere inches apart. Dimitri crossed his arms, and the space was so tight with the three of us that just doing that made it so our arms were now touching.

“What’s going on, Claude?” Dimitri demanded.

Claude was completely without his façade now. His tanned skin had a pale hue, like he might very well get sick any minute.

“I should start by saying… Alexi and Katrina are safe,” he began.

My stomach began to do flips. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Exactly what I said: they’re safe. They’re on their way here with Hilda.”

There was no joke about Hilda’s ability to travel with the kids on her own. There was no crack that the kids were safe but Hilda wouldn’t be after this, or whatever stupid comment he would make about his own wife. Whatever it was that Claude was building up to, it wasn’t good.

“We requested that they should return here… but that message shouldn’t have made it to Almyra yet,” Dimitri pointed out.

“Hilda began to suspect that something was amiss a few days ago and made the choice to evacuate the palace with your kids. She sent me a message yesterday,” Claude elaborated. “Nader chose to stay to help manage things with both of the Almyran leaders out of the country. And… well, he should have left.”

“Stop beating around the bush, Claude. What happened?” I demanded. Because I was still trying to whisper, it all came out as more of a hiss than anything. “What do you mean he should have left?”

Dimitri uncrossed his arms but moved closer to me, slithering one arm around my waist. It should have felt comforting, but I felt too sick now to calm down. Something happened in Almyra, something bad, and now Nader was…

“The javelins of light. The Agarthans must have thought the kids were still there, and they attacked the capital. Most of the city is gone. The palace is completely destroyed. I just got the message from an express wyvern maybe an hour ago.” Claude swallowed and then ran a hand through his hair. “I have to go back. The people who survived are going to think that Fódlan is responsible, so I have to do some damage control.”

“Goddess…” Dimitri breathed.

“Claude, I’m… this is all my fault.” I felt tears—tears that I didn’t want to feel, tears that threatened every once in awhile but never actually came—trickle by the corners of my eyes. “I shouldn’t have gotten you involved. I sent my children there, and because of that, I…”

Claude put a hand on my shoulder and shook his head. “It’s not your fault, Teach.”

One tear escaped and fell down my cheek, and I quickly wiped it away and stepped back from his grip. “I will never be able to repay my debt to Hilda,” I said. “And I will never be able to fix the damage that I brought to your home and your people. But…” I looked at Dimitri for backup before turning my attention back to Claude. “You know we’ll do whatever we can to help you rebuild and to support your citizens.”

“The Almyrans are resilient people, so we’ll bounce back from this like a phoenix from the flames,” Claude assured us. “And there is good news to come from this tragedy…”

_He’s got a gleam in his eye. Do you see it? _Sothis pointed out. _He’s angry. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen him angry before._

She was right. This was the angriest I had ever seen this normally composed—if not dangerously so—man.

“Almyra is now officially involved, which means you have my unconditional support. No more scheming from the shadows,” Claude said. His voice, despite his demeanor, remained calm.

“You should focus on your city for now, Claude,” Dimitri told him. “Return to Almyra and do what you need to do there before you help us.”

Claude seemed surprised at this response. The Dimitri from the war would’ve sided with Claude—immediately beginning some plot to destroy the Agarthans and enacting some sort of cruel revenge. But the Dimitri now controlled his anger, not without struggle, and spoke reason. It was almost as if Claude _hoped_ Dimitri would respond with rage.

So, all he could do now was nod.

“Will you tell Hilda what happened when she arrives? And that I’m glad she made it out?” Claude asked.

“Of course.”

“I’ll be in touch as soon as I can,” he assured us and started for the door.

“Oh, Claude?” I called as his hand turned the knob. He froze before pushing it open, but he didn’t look back at me. “I’m sorry for doubting you before.”

His grip loosened on the knob; I could see his knuckles shift, the color return. Still, he didn’t turn. “Telling me about your father was apology enough.”

And then he was gone. The door closed behind him, leaving Dimitri and me alone in my room.

I lost it. I buried myself into my husband’s arm, pushing my face as deep as it would go into his chest. The last time I cried like this, it had been over my father’s death. But now, it was over all the mistakes I made that I could not reverse. Sothis told me that I learned from my mistakes, that I didn’t need her to hold my hand, but didn’t this prove otherwise?

But when that feeling passed, when the sadness at destroying the lives of people not even involved faded, I was left with something else.

A gleam in my eyes, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late chapter. I, um, have been busy playing Pokémon Shield (Grookey Gang, ftw). I’ll try not to let it distract me as much this week.


	16. A Magic Touch

**Chapter Sixteen – A Magic Touch**

Hilda arrived the next morning after Claude left. The wyvern she rode panted as it landed, exhausted from both the long journey and from carrying the weight of three people, even if two of them were kids. It lowered itself to the ground to let them all off and closed its eyes when its head hit the ground.

Dimitri, Dedue, and I had been outside by the fishing pond when we saw her approach, and any sense of purpose I once had—where were we going, anyway?—disappeared. I needed to get to my children _now_, and I sprinted to the stables where Hilda was landing her wyvern.

Both kids were asleep: Katrina’s face was pressed up against the wyvern’s neck, and Alexi had his arms wrapped around her and his head on her shoulder. I stared for a moment, savoring this moment of my kids in perfect innocence, unaware of the attempt made on their lives.

I unfroze when Hilda shouted, “I could use a little help!”

“Hilda, are you okay?” I asked, pulling both kids down with a grunt into my arms. If I tried to take just one of them, the other would fall.

Dimitri, though, was right behind me now, and he scooped both of them away from me. “You shouldn’t be lifting them both.”

Hilda kicked her leg over the wyvern’s back and hopped down, brushing her skirt flat and then looking up at us. “I’m fine, except my legs are a little numb. The kids fell asleep three hours ago, and I haven’t moved since then. And I really need to pee.”

Alexi shifted in Dimitri’s arms, distracting me from Hilda. He rubbed his eyes with his little fist, then blinked several times before looking up at his father. “Daddy?”

I stepped into his view, and he looked at me with sleepy eyes. “Alexi…” I breathed. He closed his eyes and nuzzled into Dimitri’s neck, as if too tired to register any of this. I reached a hand up and brushed his hair—getting too long now—out of his face.

“I’m going to use the bathroom,” Hilda said, snapping our attention away from the kids. “But I think we need to talk, so meet me in the reception hall and we can chat. And tell Claude to get his butt over there, too.”

She was off before any of us could say anything. Well, we would be telling her soon enough about what happened and where Claude went. I wondered if her brother, Holst, already knew and was on his way through Fódlan’s Throat to Almyra. He would be aware of the extent of the damage before any of the ruling party.

We started making our way to the reception hall, the kids both still asleep in Dimitri’s arms. It wasn’t the most private location, but everyone would leave us alone if they saw us talking, and the noise level would keep the conversation from being overheard. I wondered if that was why Hilda always favored that location to gossip with her friends, if she was just using the noise level to her advantage.

Katrina finally opened her eyes as we took a seat at one of the tables, and she immediately burst into violent tears as she glanced around this unfamiliar setting. It was only when she realized that Dimitri and I were there that she stopped screaming and decided everything was fine; her tears immediately ceased, and any indication that she had just been crying vanished.

What had Hilda taught her in our absence?

“Mommy! Daddy!” Katrina wriggled out of Dimitri’s arms and onto the floor before giving her brother a good whack in the arm. “Alexi, wake _up_!”

“No hitting, Katrina,” I warned. Goddess, why was that the first thing I had to say to my daughter in the time since I last saw her? What monster had she become in Almyra?

Alexi shot awake, though, so her work was successful. He did not begin crying like his sister had, but he did seem confused enough about where he was. He furrowed his brow and blinked some more, but when I smiled at him, everything seemed to fit into whatever view he had of this world. He smiled back at me and wrapped his arms around Dimitri’s neck.

“Mommy, I got to fly the wyvern here,” Alexi told me.

“Wow, you did?” I said in feigned amazement. Katrina tugged on my hand, and I looked down at her. “Did you help?”

She nodded, and then, content with the attention that got from me, turned around and walked up to Dedue. Dedue, being the massive man that he was, frightened most children, but Katrina favored him over her own vassal back at the palace. She held her arms up towards him, and Dedue scooped her up from the floor.

_Katrina is a spitfire. I wonder who she got that from,_ Sothis joked. I ignored her—mostly because I had no answer.

“We missed you,” Dimitri told Alexi, who continued to nuzzle against him. “Did you have fun in Almyra with Aunt Hilda?”

“Yep! Mister Nader played with me and gave me a bow for a present. But I had to leave it when we left… do you think we can go back and get it?” Alexi asked. I tried not to let my expression fall, and instead forced a smile and a nod. I would need to remember to get him a bow for his birthday, but I doubt he would let it compare to a gift from Nader.

“Look!” Katrina shouted, bringing our attention to her. She pointed to her hair, revealing a beautiful woven braid. “Auntie Hilda did.”

“You look like an Almyran princess,” I said, and Katrina giggled.

“We also made some cute little Almyran bracelets and charms. Gotta say, Katrina has talent.”

Hilda reappeared beside Dedue, her hands on her hips as she looked at our small group. She must have freshened up in the bathroom, too, because her hair was tidied and her face clean. She seemed to have applied a little bit of makeup, too. I bet she specifically brought some with her when she fled Almyra.

She walked to the opposite bench and sat down, one elbow propped up on the table. “Where’s Claude?”

Dimitri unlatched Alexi’s arms from his neck and set him down on the floor. “Go play with your sister and Dedue,” he advised, and Alexi obeyed with a pout. Dedue took his hand, still carrying Katrina with his other arm, and walked off with the two of them.

Hilda frowned. “Well, that can’t be good…”

“He’s okay,” I assured her. “But Almyra isn’t. You were right to take the kids and go, Hilda, and I can’t ever thank you enough for saving their lives. I… _we_,” I corrected when Dimitri took my hand beneath the table. “We are forever grateful to you. After you left, the enemy we’ve been fighting—the Agarthans—they attacked the capital. Nader is dead. Probably thousands of others, too.”

Hilda, like Claude, wasn’t one to outwardly display her emotions. Maybe that was why the two were such a good pair. But in this moment, Hilda’s eyes widened, and I could see within them a fear that I’d never seen before. Even during the war, she would laugh her feelings off, make jokes about how she didn’t want to participate, put her work off on others. Right now, though, I saw a woman who realized she almost died, had she not escaped in time. And that frightened her.

“I… I mean, I left because I had a bad feeling…” She seemed to be piecing whatever it was that motivated her to leave together, as if she never really thought about it until this moment. “When the kids first arrived, so did a bunch of creepy-looking people, but they never approached us or anything. I kinda just thought they were tourists. But then a few days ago, they started acting weird, and I thought we better leave.”

“Whatever instincts spoke to you, they were right. You saved our children’s lives,” I said.

“Claude got word from a messenger yesterday about it and headed back to Almyra,” Dimitri explained. “He wanted us to tell you what happened and to let you know that he’s happy that you’re okay.”

Hilda’s fearful gaze changed into one of annoyance, and she rolled her eyes. “What an idiot. He couldn’t have waited for me? He always does stuff like this! I tell him I’ll follow him wherever he goes, and then he just runs off on his own. Goddess, it’s a good thing he’s cute and absolutely _amazing_ in bed…”

That was more than I ever wanted to know, but I couldn’t unhear it now.

“Well, um,” Dimitri began. He wasn’t the type to speak without knowing what he was going to say, but I had a feeling he just wanted to fill this awkward void. “I’m sure he just wanted to get back as soon as possible to start surveying the damage.”

“And Tulip is totally exhausted from the journey here, so it’s not like I can fly back right away!” Hilda shouted, as if she didn’t hear what Dimitri said. “And I’m not flying back without her.”

“Tulip?” I repeated.

Hilda crossed her arms. It was a good thing she wasn’t in my class when I taught here because I wasn’t sure I could handle her constant judgment. “My wyvern. Did you see her back there? She’s going to slip into a coma, I swear it. I’m stuck here until she feels better, and even then, I’m a few days out from Almyra. If Claude just waited for me, I could’ve flown back with him. Ugh, what a pain.”

“I’m sure this was all just part of his plan. I don’t think he would ever tell you outright that he wanted you to stay here for your protection, right? But it wouldn’t surprise me if this was all just a way to keep you out of Almyra for the time being,” I suggested. “People are going to be angry and confused, and all of that will be directed at Claude when he gets there. He’s probably just trying to protect you from that. And for some reason, Garreg Mach seems untouchable by the Agarthans, so you’re safe here.”

Minus the fact that we were currently infiltrated by a person pretending to be one of our old friends, but he couldn’t move at the time being. So, safe enough.

Hilda sighed and brushed her ponytail back over her shoulder. “Fine. It’s not like I have a choice now.”

“Claude said he would be in communication as soon as he could, but we can send an express messenger letting him know you made it if you like,” Dimitri suggested, and Hilda nodded.

The pattering of little feet distracted us from our conversation. Katrina was sprinting towards us as fast as her little legs could take her, and the normally stoic Dedue followed behind with pursed lips, clearly trying to mask his frustration that Alexi would _not_ hurry up. He was holding the little boy’s hand, who kept pointing to different things around the hall and asking questions.

Katrina flung herself onto my lap and giggled.

“My apologies, Your Majesties. I tried to tell her not to bother you, but I was unsuccessful,” Dedue said as he reached us.

Hilda stood up first. “I think we’re about done, anyway. I need to go check on Tulip.”

She walked off without another word, leaving Dimitri, Dedue, and I watching her form disappear from the large space.

“That could have gone better,” Dimitri said.

“Well, Claude kind of keeps leaving her behind. She may not like effort, but she likes to be included,” I pointed out. “Especially by her husband.”

“Uncle Claude?” Katrina asked, rolling over on my lap to look up at me.

“Sorry, my love, but he’s not here right now.” I tickled her sides, and she curled up into herself before slithering off my lap. “But did you know, Katrina, that I missed you _so_ much while you were with Aunt Hilda?”

“I missed you!” she exclaimed back.

Alexi let go of Dedue’s hand and walked towards the spot in between Dimitri and me. “Did you miss me?”

_Oh my,_ Sothis interjected._ This one is surely the opposite of his sister. You and the prince did well._

“Of course! I missed you loads!” I ruffled his hair, and he laughed. “Are you two hungry? Would you like to see the dining hall? It’s even bigger than our dining room.”

“Food!” Katrina yelled.

She grabbed Dedue’s hand and started tugging, even though she had no idea where she was going. Alexi took his father’s hand and pulled, and the two started off behind. I took up the rear, watching my family with a terrific sense of relief that we were all back together again.

“Ya must be real happy seeing your kids again, huh, Professor?”

I spun around, knowing that just beyond me, my family was heading into another part of the monastery. But I wasn’t really alone here. There were students walking around, students sitting at the tables, clergy passing through on their way to the cathedral.

Cyril wore his quiver, filled with several arrows, and was holding his bow. I knew his skills and realized he could draw an arrow faster than anyone, save for maybe Claude, but his skills rivaled that of his old teacher, Shamir. But could an imposter using his body? How skilled was this Agarthan, and did he inherit the skills of the body he inhabited? Or was that part of our minds more than our bodies?

“Very,” I responded, surveying the space to locate the nearest exits. I suspected there would be nothing to come from this, but he was certainly watching me, which was troubling in and of itself.

“I’m just heading to class, but I saw ya on my way and thought I’d say hi. Ya doing okay after what happened?” he asked.

_Get out of here, Byleth._

I smiled at Cyril and nodded. “I’m just fine, thank you. Now, if you’ll excuse me… my family seems to have left without me.”

“Sure thing, Professor.” He walked to my other side and then held out his right arm, and to anyone observing this, it would look like he was politely escorting me where I needed to go. But I had no interest in playing along with him right now. Instead, I patted a hand on his shoulder and then walked past him.

I froze when I felt a hand close around my wrist. Cyril pulled me back slightly and stepped forward himself to close the distance between us. He kept his grip tight around my wrist and then put his other hand on my stomach. There was a smile on his lips as he leaned into my ear and whispered, “Congratulations, by the way.”

My eyes widened. How did he know?

Some sort of warm sensation emanated from his fingertips against my stomach, and I jumped back, staring in horror at the man before me. He still held my wrist, and my skin began to ache against his touch.

“What did you do?”

Cyril shrugged before dropping my arm. “Your family is waiting, Professor.”

I put my own hands on my stomach and fled, spinning on my heels to retreat in the opposite direction. I barely made it to the courtyard between the reception hall and entrance hall when it suddenly felt like his hands were back on my stomach, _squeezing_ this time. I groaned against the pain but continued forward towards the dining hall. I needed to get back to my family…

It was Dedue who came out of the dining hall, likely at Dimitri’s request after wondering why I wasn’t right behind them. The squeezing was getting harder, tighter, like someone juicing a lemon, and I doubled over. By the time Dedue rushed to my side, I fell to my knees, and he crouched beside me with his hand on my back.

“Your Majesty!” he called, and I put my hand on his shoulder.

“He did something,” I breathed through gritted teeth. I groaned again, curling over into myself completely now, and my hand slipped from Dedue’s shoulder. He caught it in his larger, warmer hands.

A small crowd began to form around us as onlookers noticed my pain, and Dedue barked orders at them. The pain covered me like a veil, preventing me from seeing clearly through my eyes burning with tears, and there was a ringing in my ears as people surrounded me and began speaking. The last time I experienced pain like this… well, that was labor, and Cyril couldn’t have managed that.

Why wasn’t Sothis saying anything now? Scolding me for not getting away from him sooner? Telling me that the baby was okay?

I was lifted from the floor, carried like a doll in someone’s arms. Dedue, maybe, or more likely my husband.

“Mommy!” I could hear Alexi’s frantic voice calling for me, and I tried to blink the tears out of my eyes to look at him.

“I’m… okay,” I told him.

We were moving now, rushing back through the reception hall. If Cyril was still there, it didn’t seem that anyone paid him any mind. The others in the room noticed nothing from our exchange, as subtle as it was, so what reason did any of the students here have to suspect him? As far as anyone knew, actually, Cyril was just a professor here. Only Dimitri, Dedue, and I knew.

We bounded up the stairs now, each move pulsing within my abdomen and burning like fire.

“I’ll get Mercie,” I heard Annette’s voice say, and then I wasn’t being carried anymore. I shifted onto my side, pulling my knees into myself to try to stifle the pain.

What had he done to me? How did he know I was pregnant? He shouldn’t have known… because I turned back time to before he found out…

“Byleth,” Dimitri’s voice said by my ear. I could feel him brush my hair, sticky with sweat, away from my forehead.

“Get… him…” I hissed.

There was a scrambling, voices that I couldn’t make out entirely, a clattering of footsteps. But the whole time, a single constant, a tiny hand clung to my own. The pain seemed trivial then, as those little fingers tapped against my palm.

I was glad… so glad… to have my kids back.

“Alexi, look out. Aunt Mercedes needs to help Mommy.”

There was another warm touch against my stomach, and for a moment, I thrashed. Even though I heard Dimitri’s voice, even though I knew it was Mercedes, my brain signaled warning signs from the touch, and I pulled myself away. And then there were arms holding me down, and the hand back on my stomach, burning, burning, until the pain subsided altogether.

And then a hand on my forehead, a cool touch this time, and everything around me faded. It was as if someone dimmed the lights, and I slipped into sleep with a little hand clinging once again to mine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Thanksgiving to those of you who celebrate it! May your day be filled with lots of yummy food and limited political discourse!


	17. Interrogation

**Chapter Seventeen – Interrogation**

_Get up. Why am I constantly needing to wake you up? Come on, time to rise and shine. You’re needed._

“Sothis!”

I shot up from bed, shouting the name of the goddess who was back in my head, only to be met with the gaze of my husband’s vassal. Dedue rose to his feet and bowed to me, unfazed by both my violent awakening and my crying of a name of someone who I supposedly hadn’t heard from in years.

“Your Majesty,” Dedue greeted. “I am pleased to see that you are awake. I am going to call for Mercedes and His Majesty. Please do not remove yourself from the bed. You require attention before doing so.”

I nodded and watched Dedue leave the room. He was leaving me alone… that must have meant that they were confident, for whatever reason, that I was no longer in any danger.

Cyril…

I put a hand on my stomach. What had he done to me? That pain… if I had been able to, I would have used Sothis’s gifts to turn back time again, to prevent him from coming near me or to stop my family from leaving without me. But the pain had been so intense that it was an impossibility. And now, well, I didn’t know how much time had passed during my slumber. But if Sothis was waking me up, it was probably a little too long.

“Sothis? Are you there?” I asked within my mind.

_I am exhausted, but I am here._

“Good…” I sighed audibly, but kept our conversation private as I continued, “What happened to us?”

_I am unsure. I was blocked from communicating with you while you were writhing with pain, but I was still there. It seems that Cyril did not actually do anything to the baby. Yet it is certainly disconcerting that he knows about your pregnancy. He should have no memory of such information._

Nothing to the baby… he didn’t do anything to the baby. I let my head hit the pillow again and closed my eyes, running my fingers over my stomach, the fact that life grew within completely unnoticeable still. It was too soon yet to see a bump, so this child was still a secret to most people, save for the few I had told, and now possibly some others who Dimitri might have informed.

So, how could Cyril have known?

“What do you think he’ll do with that information? Cyril was the one back in Shambhala who thought it didn’t matter because they only needed one Crest of Flames. He didn’t have any issue with going through with taking my crest regardless of the baby, and the ones who talked him down are dead by my hands,” I pointed out. Sothis’s voice hummed in agreement in my head. “No matter what, I think we need to hear what Dimitri did with him.”

_Agreed. And speaking of…_

I sat back up as the door to the infirmary opened, and Dimitri entered first, followed by Mercedes and then Dedue. I could see Alexi just outside the door peering in, but then the door slammed behind Dedue, locking my son out.

“How are you feeling?” Dimitri asked.

“Fine. What happened?” I directed this question to Mercedes, and she folded her hands together.

Mercedes, like the rest of us, suffered through her life up until the end of the war, and she still smiled the brightest of all my students. It had been a difficult day for her when her brother died, despite understanding the role he played necessitated his death, but things had generally looked up for her since. She separated herself from her adoptive family and built her life here at the monastery. I admired her tenacity and resilience. What she went through made her stronger.

“It was just some dark magic,” she told me. “He essentially used a spell to twist the muscles in the abdomen, but he didn’t do any damage further. You can consider it a dark magic-induced cramp. Certainly a bad one, but he didn’t affect anything with your baby. If I had to guess, I think he was just trying to scare you.”

I ran a hand through my hair—sticky with sweat and exceptionally flat—and nodded. “Where is he now?”

“We have him locked up in one of the tunnels below the monastery, but he’s not sharing any details,” Dimitri said. Mercedes must have explained the situation to him well before now, seeing how calm he was. “He says he wants to speak to you alone.”

“Was he _trying_ to get caught?” I wondered aloud, and Dimitri and Mercedes exchanged a glance. “Something is strange.”

_They continue to be one step ahead of us. But I do believe you need to speak with this Cyril imposter,_ Sothis advised. _He will be trying to trick you, surely, but there may be some information you can gather by using Adonis’s name. Adonis appeared to be of a higher rank than this imposter._

“I’ll speak with him, alone as he requests,” I decided. Dimitri opened his mouth to protest, and I held up a hand to silence him. “Is he securely bound? With magical restrictions?”

Mercedes nodded. “Annie set them up herself.”

“Then I won’t doubt her abilities. I have no choice but to speak with him if I want to gather any more information about what the Agarthans plan to do now. They will likely have abandoned their base because I know its location, so we’ll need more information going into the next phase of all this.” I moved my feet out from below the covers of the bed and pulled over my shoes. “I will head down now.”

“Professor, with all due respect,” Mercedes began, “I think you should bring someone with you. I agree that something feels off about this whole situation. You were keeping your pregnancy under wraps, weren’t you? Yet the person who is pretending to be Cyril knew—and despite this, did not harm the baby even after pretending to. Unless he merely made a mistake, there is likely some sort of plan he is trying to enact.”

I smiled at her as I slipped my feet into my boots. My abdomen, I noticed as I leaned over to pull them up, was tight, the soreness from Cyril’s curse lingering still.

“It’s all right. He won’t speak if I bring someone. I’d like to get as much information as I can, but if I sense any danger whatsoever, I promise I’ll retreat.” I held up my hand in promise, not that I necessarily meant it. If I sensed danger, I would be more than happy to run Cyril through on the end of my sword.

I wanted answers. And sitting here speculating wouldn’t get me any closer to them.

Dimitri walked over to the small nightstand and picked up my baldric, holding it tentatively in both his hands and staring down at the Sword of the Creator fitted through one loop. I wondered for a moment if he might not give it to me, if he might try to prevent me from going, but I knew him better. He turned back and handed the belt over to me, brushing past me once I had it securely in my hands.

This was not the choice he would make for me, but he also recognized he was not the one who could make the decision.

I secured the baldric and the Sword of the Creator on my hip, and then turned to the small group formed in the center of the room. “Thank you for taking care of me, Mercedes. It’s reassuring knowing that you’re here,” I told her, and she smiled, a slight rosy hue forming in her cheeks. “Dedue, thank you for carrying me here. I know I can always count on you.” Dedue bowed to me, a crack in his stoic demeanor barely noticeable as his lips curled slightly. “And Dimitri, thank you for not fighting this. And for taking care of the kids while I was out of commission.”

Dimitri crossed his arms with a huff. “I know better than to tell you what to do…”

“That you do.” I stood on my toes and kissed his cheek. “Will you take me to Cyril?”

“I’m going back to the cathedral to pray,” Mercedes said, her smile falling into a frown. “Poor Cyril… I hope that his soul can find salvation after all this. The goddess will take care of him.”

_Cyril is already dead. There is little I can do for him now, _Sothis said to me. _But she’s right. As much as we hate the one who has inhabited his body, we must remember that it is not Cyril himself who we hate._

Dimitri and Dedue led me below the monastery, and we said our goodbyes to Mercedes as she went to pray for Cyril’s soul. Despite having turned the monastery into our base during the war, there remained secrets unknown to us about the grounds and building. The complex tunnels beneath us, which had been rumored to exist but never proven, had been discovered when Flayn was kidnapped during our school days. But the entrance to that area had been sealed completely after finding it in Manuela’s room.

That apparently did not stop our armies from constructing a new, more accessible entrance. There were cells down there that we could use for any war criminals, like the man who told Dimitri about what happened with his stepmother’s carriage. I would have thought this would be sealed again following the conclusion of the war, but Dimitri and Dedue brought me to that same entrance, located in the knights’ quarters where it could always be guarded.

The staircase, shoddily constructed and dangerous in the dark, led directly to the cells. Dimitri and Dedue lit some lanterns nearby, and Cyril’s face became illuminated from behind iron bars. I put my hand up to them, only to be burned by some sort of magic when I got too close.

“He won’t be able to reach through, but you’ll still be able to communicate,” Dimitri explained. Then, he addressed Cyril. “We’ll leave you two alone to talk. But if you so much as try to hurt my wife again, you will regret it. Do you understand?”

Cyril smiled, rolling his eyes and holding a hand up to wave Dimitri off. “I won’t touch her. Obviously. Can’t.”

This pacified Dimitri enough, and my husband turned to me now. “Be careful.” He took my hand for a moment, squeezing gently before dropping it and walking away with Dedue.

And now I was alone with the enemy.

“I’m going to let you do the talking,” I told him. “You must have a lot to explain.”

Cyril was always so steadfast and serious, so seeing a smile plastered on his face like this creeped me out a bit. I wasn’t used to it and knowing that someone else was using his body to act this way was even worse to consider.

But it didn’t last long. The dark skin of the Almyran man began to peel away, like the dark magic burning the flesh that Adonis had used back in Hrym. Below, however, was the true form of man impersonating Cyril, and within seconds, a new person altogether sat on the damp floor. Not even the clothes remained the same.

The man looking up at me now had the same pale, grayish skin as the others, but his eyes were black—and not just the irises. Both his eyeballs in their entirety were black, as if rotted away over time, so it was almost impossible to tell if he was looking directly at me. His hair, too, long and greasy, was black.

“I thought Annette blocked your magic,” I said.

He laughed. His real voice was deeper than Cyril’s, though not quite like Adonis’s. “That girl’s magic hardly compares to the ancient magic of Agartha. She may have successfully created the barrier between us, but she does not have me bound here as she suspects.”

“So, you could have left. Why didn’t you?”

The Agarthan stood and closed the distance between us. The only reason I knew his eyes were bearing into me was because his face was a mere six inches away from mine, kept apart only because of the magical barrier. Otherwise I suspected he would have closed the distance further.

“Then we wouldn’t have this opportunity to chat!” he announced, still smiling, and then took a couple of steps back. “But I can’t promise that I’ll stick around after our conversation concludes. There’s more to do, you know.”

And with the magical barrier between us, I wouldn’t be able to prevent him from leaving…

“Let’s begin with introductions, shall we?” He bowed, curling an arm around his waist in a deep, formal bow. “I am Theron.”

He stood back up and looked at me expectantly, waiting for my introduction. I frowned. “I believe you know who I am.”

“I’d like to hear it nonetheless.”

I sighed. “I’m Byleth.”

He shook his head and clicked his tongue. “Try again.”

_Just appease him. It’ll get us to our answers sooner. Besides, like you said, he already knows._

“Sothis,” I corrected.

Theron clapped his hands, before stopping suddenly and dropping to his knees. He crawled closer once more, kneeling this time so that he was eye-level with my stomach. I backed away, and he held his hands just before the stinging barrier.

“How did you know?” I asked.

“Getting straight to the point, are we?” He lowered his hands and stood again, but his head was lowered enough that I could tell he was still looking at my torso and not my face. “You know, I wasn’t so fond of the idea before. It seemed like a waste of time. But I don’t mind it now. Because we can work with this. I have ideas. And there are those much smarter than me who can bring them to fruition.”

My brows furrowed. “Before?” I repeated.

Theron laughed again. “Ah, allow me to explain. You see, I have this unusual ability. One that, you know, wouldn’t come up in daily life. It was discovered accidentally some years ago. Like Adonis, I am a mere descendant of the original Agarthans, so at first, my _gift_ was disregarded as unimportant. Useless. But then, I decided that I might prove myself useful, and I was given an opportunity. Adonis decided that I could be here, with you, to see what was happening at every iteration of this world.”

Every iteration?

He could see my confusion. He continued to smile, this time looking at my face and leaning in closer once more. But I had stepped far enough away from the cell bars that we were several feet apart.

“To put it simply: you turn back the hands of time, and I remember.”

“What?”

Theron twirled a finger in a circle. “You are the progenitor god. The Beginning. You know both sides of time, the past and the present, which leads to the future. And when you change the past—when you use your powers to turn back time—you change the present. It is as if you are recording a new history over that which has already happened. But you do not record over mine.”

He… remembered? How could that be so?

“In short, I retain the memories of the past you erase,” he clarified. “Like you. You retain those memories, too, do you not? So, for the two of us, we can remember that whole scenario in which my dear Sybil determined that you were pregnant with a baby who bore a crest. And I remember how you very unkindly murdered me.”

The smile vanished now, and he reached forward, curling his fingertips around the iron bars. I could hear the magic crackling, could see flashing of red as it tried to fight him off, but he kept his grip firm, and leaned even closer so that his face began to flicker with signs of magic trying to repel him.

I backed away further, holding up my hands to show I did not plan to hurt him now. But, then again, I wasn’t completely unarmed. My magic wouldn’t compare to his, but it was still functional.

“You would do the same in my place,” I said.

“That I would. And I would do the same now if we didn’t need you and that child within. Because I can see in your eyes that you know which crest that child has. And _that_ was the spell I cast on you.” He reached through the bars, the magic burning the sleeves of his robe, and held his hand outstretched towards me. “If the crest of the mother and child were compatible, they would react: pain. If the crest of the mother and the child were incompatible—that is, if the child bore the crest of your husband—then there would be no reaction.”

He knew. He knew the child bore the Crest of Flames.

“So,” I began, covering my stomach with both my hands. “What now?”

Theron pulled his arm back in and removed himself from the crackling magic. There were burns across his face and hands, little vein-like ribbons patterning through his skin, but it didn’t seem to bother him any. Maybe once you experienced dying once, pain like that didn’t affect you the same way.

“I return to my people and share what I know. And you begin to formulate a plan to destroy us that will ultimately fail because no matter what you do, we will always be one step ahead of you. Turn back time all you’d like, but I will remember and learn, just like you,” he threatened. I unsheathed the Sword of the Creator from my belt and held it up in front of me. “And that little spiny stick? Won’t help you for long.”

I whipped the sword, but it clashed against the magic barrier and retracted back into itself. Theron laughed, more maliciously than before, and shook his head.

“You are nothing compared to Nemesis,” he said, and then he vanished.

I ran forward, reaching for the iron bars, only to be burned again by Annette’s magic. Theron—Cyril—was gone. He made it out alive… he knew that my child bore the Crest of Flames… he would remember every situation that I turned back time, meaning if he was in battle when we reached the end of this, he would keep me from making any changes to the outcome.

_Nemesis,_ Sothis repeated. _The King of Liberation._

I didn’t know what it all meant, but we certainly received a great deal of information from that man. And if I could use any of it against them, then I would do all that I could to beat them. If they were always one step ahead of us, then I would have to make sure that we were as close to the edge as we could get, so that when they took that next step, they would fall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your continued support, and welcome to all the new readers who have joined recently. Enjoy!


	18. Strategic Planning

**Chapter Eighteen – Strategic Planning**

I left the underground Abyss with a new weight on my shoulders. Dimitri and Dedue stood waiting at the entrance and looked expectantly at me when I arose from below. How was I to tell Dimitri that I lost in the battle of wits? Theron was a step ahead of me, as promised, and I feared that his threat that they would always be was correct. The only consolation was that, as far as I knew, we were no longer being spied on.

Still, I would fight with the information we learned, despite how little it was: Theron remembered the past when I used Divine Pulse, he knew about my child bearing the Crest of Flames, our magic didn’t seem to affect him—and perhaps the others—the same way as each other, which…

Which meant that they really _were_ a step ahead. If they could see through our magic, did they know that Annette put that tracking spell on me back in Shambhala? Were they planning the entire time on giving up Shambhala? Was that why the people didn’t try harder to stop me—merely used me as a test for their mechanical beasts? They _wanted_ me to leave… but why?

_Why go through the effort to capture you and then let you leave?_ Sothis wondered. _Still, I doubt they expected you to successfully kill Adonis and the witch lady._

This all made less sense than it did at the beginning. Maybe I was overthinking it. There was no way they could see that far ahead. Annette cast the tracking spell before they knew about the crest baby, and that was the only reason why they might have let me go, to allow the baby to be born before harvesting the crest. Yet even so, the woman—Sybil, the imposter said—wanted to keep me in captivity until he was born. There was no indication that they wanted me to leave.

I put a hand to my forehead and rubbed the bone above my left eye. My head hurt…

“Are you all right?” Dimitri asked, dropping down a couple of steps to meet me halfway.

“Just a headache,” I assured him.

He put a hand to my cheek. His hands were gloved, yet I could sense the warmth of his hand behind the leather. I hated the idea that I might have let him down by letting Theron escape, but it would be impossible to keep the truth from him.

I grabbed his hand and removed it from my face, lowering his arm and then dropping it back by his side. I brushed past him and climbed the remaining few stairs, stopping when I reached Dedue. He stepped out of the way, bowing slightly to allow me to pass him, but I shook my head.

“Theron is gone,” I informed them.

“_What_?” Dimitri snapped. He did not often get angry with me, but I had a feeling his rage was about to be directed at my incompetence. “Did you let him go? What do you mean he is gone?”

“Of course I wouldn’t let him go,” I retorted, turning back on the top stair towards my husband. Even a couple of steps up, we were only eye-level now. “Do you really think me such a fool?”

His eye widened, and he lowered his gaze from mine. “No.” Then, gathering his bearings, he looked back up at me, his eyebrow lowered. “But please explain how a captive man bound by magic and metal could possibly have escaped our custody while you were down there with him. The _one_ hope we had at understanding what the Agarthans wanted, and you let him escape.”

“Dimitri…” I warned. I didn’t think this conversation would go well, but this was surpassing my expectations.

He laughed, bitterly cold like ice. “Do not use your professor voice with me.”

“You’re not giving me an opportunity to explain!” I yelled. I could feel Sothis getting fired up within me, too, which only magnified my own emotions. “You say to explain, but you won’t give me a chance to speak. You merely make judgments.”

“Your Majesties,” Dedue said calmly from behind me, and I turned to look at him with a glare meant for my husband. “Perhaps it would be best to find a different location to speak.”

“No, I’m going down there,” Dimitri responded, and my gaze snapped back to him. I turned so quickly that my foot nearly slipped from the step, but I managed to catch myself before making a fool of myself any further.

“You don’t believe me?”

He didn’t say anything more. He retreated into the darkness below us, and I watched him disappear. A hand clasped down on my shoulder, but I did not look back at Dedue. Instead, I stared at the darkness that engulfed Dimitri, wondering if I should follow him in so that I might finally have a chance to explain myself. This was too reminiscent of our political meetings.

“He is worried about you, Professor.”

_Professor_. Dedue only called me that these days in private. Never my name. I doubted Dedue could ever bring himself to call me by name out of concern that to do so would insult Dimitri. But I knew nonetheless how much Dedue cared for me and for Dimitri.

I crossed my arms. “He has a funny way of showing it…”

“While you were down there, he paced back and forth up here and wore a groove in the grass.” I could picture a small smile upon his lips, but I still refused to look back. “He fears both for you and for the safety of your children, and it upsets him that you continue to put yourself in danger despite his concerns.”

“It’s not his decision to make.”

“He understands that, which is why he relinquishes when you tell him that you will continue to fight. He respects your autonomy, Professor. But please consider that at the end of the day, he is simply a husband worried about his wife.”

I turned to Dedue this time. He had the tiny smile that I pictured still on his lips, but his eyes were sad. Dimitri confided in him about this. There were things they shared that Dedue would never be able to tell me, the fears that Dimitri shared that could never be repeated. Dedue was not only the shield of the king, but he was also his confidant in a way I never could be.

“I cannot promise that I will withhold myself from the danger when it expressly involves me,” I said quietly. “But I’ll try to be more understanding of his feelings on the situation… and to be more careful.”

Dedue nodded. “Now, I recommend that you go to him so that you may explain yourself fully.”

“Thank you, Dedue.”

I followed his recommendation and returned back to the holding cell. Dimitri was examining the metal bars from every angle, looking up and down at the ceiling and floor, apparently trying to make sense of something that wouldn’t from just looking.

“The magic didn’t affect him,” I said as I approached. Dimitri, who apparently was so lost in thought that he hadn’t heard me approach, jumped. I fought the urge to laugh, realizing this was not the moment, and bit my lip.

“If it didn’t affect him, why did he stay?” he wondered.

“He wanted to speak with me.” I stopped beside Dimitri, looking into the cell that once held Theron. The iron bars still crackled with magic. “He revealed his true self to me. His name is Theron. He told me that he can remember the past when I turn back time, so that was how he knew I’m pregnant. And he also knows that the child bears the Crest of Flames.”

I could see from the corner of my eye that Dimitri looked over at me, but I still looked within. There were pieces of food untouched against the back wall. The warp tile within the cell had been deactivated long ago, but although it did not glow, the intricate pattern remained: the symbols of the Crest of Gautier and Goneril. I never did figure out why those crests appeared here.

“The Crest of Flames…” Dimitri repeated. “Do you ever think Alexi might be the lucky one?”

I smiled. “Often.”

“Why would this Theron person reveal all this to you? For what purpose?” He sighed, then shifted entirely so that he faced me now. I turned, too, and our gazes met with some discomfort. “I apologize if I offended you before. I am afraid I didn’t want to believe that one of them had slipped through our fingers again. It means you will continue to be in danger.”

“Then we should figure something out. Together.” I held out my hand to him, and he took it. “Let’s call everyone together.”

* * *

Everyone agreed to a meeting the following morning. Dimitri and I agreed that it would be best to fill everyone in on everything that had happened so far, meaning that we would lay it all out there. No more secrets. If there was another imposter within our ranks, so be it. We needed to work with our allies, and that meant trusting them. It was all we had for now.

But before we could tell our friends everything, there were two people who had to be filled in first.

Katrina would have gotten along well with Lysithea. She loved sweets more than anything, particularly cake. Sugar was easier to come by these days compared to during the war, but we still only saved it for special occasions. And what occasion was more special than this?

In other words, I expected her to be angry, and maybe cake would placate her.

Alexi, bless him, told me that he wanted a tomato for his treat. I wondered what I had done wrong as a mother, but I knew I ought to consider myself lucky.

The four of us sat in my bedroom. It was a bit of a squeeze for the four of us, especially given that we were all sitting on the floor beside the bed so it wouldn’t be a big deal if Katrina spilled her cake.

“We have some big news to share with you both,” I started. Katrina didn’t look at me. She was staring at her cake, waiting for one of us to give the go-ahead for her to eat it, and practically drooling. “Katrina, you can eat that now.”

Alexi was sitting in between Dimitri and me and had his elbows on each of our knees. “Mommy, can I eat mine, too?”

I smiled and nodded at him. He picked up his tomato, looked at it curiously, and then bit down into the whole thing. It squirted tomato juice every direction, including in my face, but Alexi seemed perfectly satisfied by his dessert.

I could picture Sothis cringing in my head. _What a strange child…_

“So, right… the big news…” I tried again. “Alexi, you remember what we told you when Katrina was born?”

He furrowed his brows, racking through his brain to pull out the information, but he shook his head. “No.”

“We told you that you had to be a good big brother and always take care of your little sister. And you’ve done a very good job. I think you might be able to handle being a good big brother to another sibling, don’t you think?” I asked him.

Alexi thought again, apparently not making the connection about what I said. “I guess so.”

“Katrina, do you think you could be a good big sister?” Dimitri tried.

Katrina looked up from her cake and glanced between the two of us. Then, she looked back down at her cake and shook her head. “No.”

“No?” Dimitri repeated.

“Don’t want to.”

Sothis laughed. _Oh my._

Dimitri looked at me, clearly relinquishing his role. He’d tried. We’d both tried. What if we just didn’t actually tell them and just… let it happen naturally?

No… no, that wouldn’t do.

“Well, um, Katrina. And Alexi.” I watched as Katrina shoved half the cake in her mouth with her hands, forgoing use of the utensil that she didn’t work well. “You’re going to have a new baby brother in a little while, and I hope that both of you will be good older siblings to him.”

This got Alexi’s attention. “Brother?” he repeated. When I nodded, he put his unfinished tomato down on the floor and pushed himself in front of me. “I want a brother.”

“Sister!” Katrina announced.

“No, Katrina, you’re going to have a brother,” Dimitri said.

“Is he in there?” Alexi asked, pointing to my stomach. I nodded, and he reached a tiny hand forward to touch it. “Hello, baby brother.”

“Katrina, you want to say hi?” I asked.

“No.” She licked her fingers and then grabbed some more cake. “Want cake.”

_The girl knows what she wants. You must respect that,_ Sothis joked, and I sighed.

* * *

Alexi didn’t want to leave my side after all that had happened, and I had a feeling the news made him both a little excited and nervous. So, he sat on my lap playing with a handmade doll from Mercedes during the war council meeting in the cardinals’ room the next day. Katrina played with some blocks that Seteth had scrounged up over in the corner of the room, but she kept looking up every now and again as though she was perfectly aware of everything going on. Sometimes I wondered what went on behind those glass-like eyes of hers.

“And that’s basically what we’re dealing with,” I concluded after explaining everything I learned so far. Given the fact that everyone now knew, thanks to what happened two days ago, both that Cyril had been an imposter and that I was pregnant, there wasn’t much to hide. So much for the “need-to-know” basis.

Maybe that was part of Theron’s plan, anyway, to spill all the secrets we kept. But if he planned to shake our bonds, he failed. Though there seemed to be some annoyance that we had withheld information from the others, in general, the consensus was that we did what we had to do. That was the reality of war. We were used to this sort of thing by now.

“I’m so sorry.” Annette folded her hands together and spoke into them instead of looking at any of us. “This wouldn’t have happened if I was a better mage.”

“Annette, you know that’s not true,” I said.

“But if I was better, he wouldn’t have gotten away!” she countered. Felix, seated beside her, looked increasingly uncomfortable, as if he couldn’t think of what to say to convince her otherwise. Mercedes, on her other side, put a hand on top of hers.

“He called it ancient magic. We just don’t have the ability to fight against something that’s a thousand years old. None of us could have done any better,” I assured her, but she didn’t look particularly reassured. She sniffled, pulling her hands from under Mercedes’s to wipe her nose.

The door to the room opened suddenly, and in a room full of war veterans, surprise wasn’t exactly… safe. Several of us stood with our weapons aimed and ready, the idea in our mind that everyone who needed to be here was. The only person who couldn’t make it was Seteth, as he had a prior engagement with several of the church clergymen to prepare for an upcoming holiday.

But when we saw who it was, we all sat back down with out weapons sheathed. Hilda put her hands on her hips and glanced around. “Why didn’t anyone tell me we were meeting?”

“Hilda?” Dimitri frowned. “We thought you were leaving this morning. The stable boy informed me that Tulip was flight-ready.”

“Oh, right.” Hilda walked over to an open seat beside Ashe and sat down. “Well, I decided that my services would be best used here after all. With Claude out of the picture for right now, I’m the next best thing. My authority as queen of Almyra is sufficient for getting you whatever you want in terms of support. And you _know_ no one is as good as me at getting others to do whatever I want.”

There were a couple of awkward chuckles from others who had fallen prey to Hilda’s ways. She had a point.

“Just think of me as the liaison between Almyra and Fódlan. I _am_ a Goneril, after all. Our family has been the guardians of Fódlan’s locket for generations, meaning that we have always had the strongest connections between Fódlan and Almyra. If I learned anything from my brother, it’s how to talk to Almyrans!” she continued.

“Didn’t your brother mostly just fight them?” Sylvain asked.

Hilda waved him off. “Beside the point. What I’m trying to say is that Claude will mobilize the Almyran army here, and I’ll serve as their commander until he gets things settled back home. And since I’m allied with you guys, you’ll have the entirety of the Almyran army at your disposal.”

“That certainly is helpful, considering our losses as of late,” Dimitri said. “Thank you, Hilda.”

“Oh, you know you can count of me!” she said with a wink.

“That doesn’t solve our problem of knowing _where_ to direct those troops,” Felix pointed out. “If you’re so sure about them abandoning Shambhala, then we’re back to square one. And just like that Theron idiot told you, they’ll always be one step ahead of us because of it. We’re here like sitting ducks, and they have all of Fódlan to use as their hiding spot.”

Well, he had a point. Not knowing where the enemy was or would be was a serious disadvantage, considering that they knew exactly where we were. And luring them to us hadn’t exactly gone well last time, but what other option did we have?

“We have the Kingdom army and the Almyran army… the ranks of Knights of Seiros are low, so I’m going to be withdrawing most of their support and reinstating them at their usual locations,” I said. “But given the fact that the Agarthans hid successfully for so long tells me that it wouldn’t take much for them to do so again. We would be wasting our resources to go out looking for them.”

“So, what, we wait for them to destroy us like they did Hrym?” Felix asked.

I shook my head. “I don’t think they’ll be able to. I’m guessing that they had all their offensive resources tied to Shambhala. By giving up on that location, they also gave up on the javelins of light and most likely the mechanical beasts, too. They must feel confident in their own abilities if they’re preparing to fight us head on…”

“Then what do you suggest?”

I looked at Dimitri for this one, and he frowned. We had been discussing our options all night after putting the kids to bed, and still we hadn’t reached a perfect conclusion. But there was some semblance of a plan in the works.

“Theron gave Byleth a hint by telling her that he could remember the past when she changed it. That would mean he would be aware every single time she used her powers to turn back time,” Dimitri explained. “The times that she has had to use it multiple times in a row were for serious battles and life-or-death situations. What if we trick Theron into thinking something is wrong by using her powers to our advantage?”

“You want to bring them to us again?” Ingrid asked.

“Yes, but this time, we will have the Almyran army and our army to back us up, and they won’t have their javelins of light. We know what to expect of their magic this time, and with our huge numbers, they won’t be prepared to deal with all of us,” Dimitri continued. “If Theron suspects something is wrong with Byleth, who they need for her crest, or the baby, who they want for something else, then he’ll come investigate, most likely with a group if he thinks it’s the result of a battle.”

“There are some serious ‘if’s there,” Hilda pointed out. “But I think Claude is rubbing off on you. I like it.”

Dimitri looked specifically away from Hilda, scanning the room to stare anywhere but at her. “We will figure out the details once we hear from him. Have you sent a messenger telling him of your intention to stay?”

“Just a couple of hours ago.”

“Then I think we can adjourn for now. We are under the assumption that we have a little bit of time considering that Theron just left yesterday and will need to reconnect with the others to formulate their next steps. Thank you, everyone.” Dimitri stood, and the others did as well. Some of our friends filed out of the room—Mercedes and Annette perhaps to chat about the latter’s feelings, Ashe maybe to the greenhouse—until only Dedue, Dimitri, Ingrid, Felix, Sylvain, the kids, and I remained.

“A problem?” Dimitri asked, directing his question mostly towards Felix but sending it in the general direction of both he and Sylvain.

“Not so much a problem…” Sylvain responded.

Dimitri crossed his arms. “Then… what?”

“Professor, the three of us have been talking,” Ingrid said. I didn’t particularly like the sound of that. When the three of them talked, bad things usually followed.

I scooted Alexi off my lap and whispered in his ear to go play with his sister. He didn’t seem interested but ran off nonetheless, plopping on the ground next to Katrina.

“About what?”

“Well, technically I’m a knight in service of the king. And Dedue also serves His Majesty, as well. Much of that privilege extends to you, and you essentially have the support of Seteth when he’s around…” Ingrid began tentatively, rubbing her hands together as she seemed to think it through and simultaneously say it. “But we were thinking that you need a more stable set of hands.”

“We’re all used to going on missions together, Professor!” Sylvain joined in. “And you know I would die for a pretty woman like—”

“What he’s saying,” Felix interrupted, “is that the two of us are volunteering to be in your service for however long you need us.”

Sylvain nodded. “Even though we’re not knights like Ingrid, we still would like to help.”

I felt a lump in my throat. What was that?

“You mean the two of you won’t leave me alone?” I joked, and Sylvain laughed. Felix merely rolled his eyes, even though I could see the flicker of a smile on his lips. “Thank you. That’s kind of you.”

Given that Felix and Sylvain held their own positions of power in the unified Kingdom, they couldn’t technically swear themselves over to me the way Ingrid, as a knight, did. Still, all the same, the thought that they had sat down and discussed it all together was… sweet.

_Still the favorite teacher, I see._

Well, maybe. But the Blue Lions, too, were still my favorite students.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Katrina knows what’s up. I mean, girl, same. Between babies and cake, gimme the cake.


	19. To the Edge

**Chapter Nineteen – To the Edge**

A week passed before support arrived from Almyra with a note addressed to Dimitri and me, and in that week, we enjoyed a respite from the Agarthans, as well. We knew that with the arrival of the Almyran army, things would set in motion again, and the time I enjoyed with my family and friends during this short period would be but a memory. I would miss it.

How odd it was not to see Nader approach me as the general of the Almyran army. It wasn’t as if I had many interactions with him as the leader, but every time I had interacted with the Almyran army, it was with Nader to lead their troops. Hearing the words from Claude that Nader had died in the attack on the capital had not yet sunk in—and now they did.

The general in Nader’s place, bearing a similar sort of garb to Claude’s with lots of fabric and layers, pointed to the diadem atop my head. “You the one in charge here?”

Dimitri rarely wore his crown. Given his tendency to suffer from headaches and the weight of his crown, it made sense for him to avoid it as much as possible. It was only during public appearances that he put it on for show. My diadem, on the other hand, had been given to me by Rhea when I fused with Sothis, and though I didn’t typically wear it, Seteth informed me that I ought to in any situation in which I was “serving as a representative of the church.” He seemed to think it gave me more authority as a leader.

Crowned or not, Dimitri gestured for me to go ahead and take the reins, so I nodded to the Almyran general. “I’m Byleth Eisner Blaiddyd, Queen of the Kingdom of Fódlan. Claude probably mentioned me.” The general’s face contorted slightly at the mention of Claude’s name, and I smiled. “Sorry. We’ve known each other for quite some time, so I don’t usually—”

“Oh, good, they’re here,” a voice interrupted, and our attention shifted to Hilda, who approached with dramatic clicking of her heels.

The Almyran general got down on one knee and bowed before her. “Your Majesty.”

“Yeah, yeah, you can get up,” she said, waving her hands at him. The man stood, straight as an arrow now. “Got any news?”

The general pulled two scrolls out of one of his many layers and held one out to me and one out to Hilda. “A letter for each of you from His Majesty.”

We both took our respective letters, and I signaled for Dimitri to come closer to me, seeing that the scroll handed to me bore both our names. But before we could begin reading, the Almyran general cleared his throat, and we all looked up at him as he stared expectantly at Hilda.

She sighed, then pointed away from the stables, where they had landed their wyvern. “Dining hall’s that way. But don’t make a mess. _Or_ a scene. There are students here.”

I frowned, watching as dozens of men whooped and hollered as they walked away towards the dining hall. I looked at Hilda, who shrugged. “Did Claude or Cyril ever tell you about Almyran festivals? Goddess, the first time Claude brought me to one, I had never been so drunk in my entire life. The Almyrans really know how to party, let me tell you. Most celebrations are saved for holidays and after big battles, but they also use them to get amped up sometimes.”

“In the dining hall?” Dimitri asked. “Seteth will not be pleased.”

“They’ll clean up after themselves,” Hilda assured us. “And they’ll be ready to go as soon as you tell them, too. Anyway, let’s read these.” She wiggled her scroll in front of us, and I nodded.

The outside of the scroll read THEIR MAJESTIES BYLETH & DIMITRI BLAIDDYD, but the greeting inside was much less formal and much more indicative that Claude had been the one to write this. Claude’s handwriting had always been like chicken scratch, especially compared to Dimitri’s, who enjoyed the finest formal education money could buy.

Not to say that Claude hadn’t been formally educated, but the priorities of his parents had been different. Handwriting and calligraphy didn’t seem to be particularly important, and Claude would likely agree, given how badly he had been harassed as a child. His priorities were different, too.

Dimitri and I leaned into each other to read the letter, our heads inches apart and the letter held in one of each of our hands between us.

_Dear Teach and His Kingliness,_

_Things aren’t looking great in Almyra. People are angry. All my work busting open Fódlan’s Locket feels like it might be for naught. I was able to convince the new general to go help you, but the citizens believe that Fódlan is responsible for this disaster. I am doing what I can here to talk down the resentment, but people seem to be angry with me, too._

_I think I understand why the Agarthans risked attacking us. It was not just to try to murder your children. They must have realized the kind of resentment that would fester here. Our relations were fragile as Hilda and I worked to ease the tension between our two nations, and though improvements have been made, there will always be those—both in Fódlan and here—who will fight change._

_Now, all the people who witnessed the tragedy saw the javelin of light appearing from the direction of Fódlan, and they remember the distinction between our two countries. I will have to stay here longer and continue to hear their thoughts and convince them that you are an innocent party. But the Almyrans are a warrior people. Groups are organizing who wish to cross into Fódlan and battle. I’ve asked Hilda to return to Goneril territory to work with her brother to subdue these groups. In the meantime, you have the support of those who respected Nader and therefore respect me out of sheer debt, even if they do not believe me._

_I am sorry I cannot be of more help, but I have faith in both of you. When all of this is over, we can sit down for a feast greater than anything you’ve experienced._

_Good luck._

_Claude_

Dimitri finished reading before me. I kept rereading parts, both stumbling over his handwriting and the words themselves.

Cyril told me once that the Almyrans thought the Fódlan people to be cowards. And they had mistreated Claude for being half-Fódlan, just like the people of Fódlan mistreated him here for being half-Almyran. The Almyrans invaded Fódlan’s Throat for fun, resulting in the death of Almyrans and Fódlan people all the same. And all that added up to a clear sign that we didn’t get along.

Claude had done a lot to ease those tensions, though. They accepted him as their ruler, and Hilda too, when Claude’s father abdicated to spend more time with Claude’s mother. We reworked the trade agreement, which had loosened significantly under Claude’s grandfather on his father’s side, instituting a free trade market that helped build relations between us. The border was bust open like Claude wanted, with people able to move with little restriction between countries.

But it was all still so fragile. The Fódlan people didn’t necessarily understand the Almyran warrior culture, and though Claude had convinced the Almyrans to hold their battles elsewhere so as not to provoke those in Goneril territory, people who had family members killed defending Fódlan’s Locket remembered. And there seemed to be the impression still, perhaps even more so _because_ of Claude’s request to not battle in Fódlan, that we were all cowards.

Well, we would have to do what we could and defeat the Agarthans. We had no choice now, lest a war broke out between Almyra and Fódlan as a result of their meddling.

“We need to implement our plan as quickly as possible,” Dimitri said once he saw I finished reading. “Tomorrow, perhaps, after the Almyrans recover from their feast.”

“Probably for the best, anyway,” I agreed. “It’s been a week without anything happening from the Agarthans, and the more time we give them to prepare, the riskier this plan becomes.”

“I’ll give whatever orders you need me to before I head back home to Goneril territory. Apparently, I’m needed,” Hilda interjected, her fist tightening around the curled scroll. “I think my brother can handle it, of course, but Claude seems to think an appearance from me might help placate the Almyrans without resorting to battle. They do love me after all.”

Dimitri put a hand up to his chin and frowned. “Certainly the last thing we need is to have to designate our troops to small fights like that…”

“I’ll take care of it,” Hilda assured us. She let out a small gasp and brought her fingertips to her lips. “This is the most resourceful I’ve ever sounded. My brother would be so proud.”

I smiled, but it didn’t last long. A loud crash from the direction of the dining hall startled me out of my amusement, and I narrowed my eyes at Hilda instead. She crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. “I’ll take care of _all_ of it, okay? No worries!”

She walked off, leaving Dimitri and I behind (followed silently, of course, by Dedue, Sylvain, and Felix, the latter two of whom had begun to take their knightly duties surprisingly seriously). “Do you think we can trust them? The Almyran army?” I asked.

Dimitri looped an arm around my waist and pulled me into him, some semblance of the peace we enjoyed this past week filtering back in for just a moment. “We have no choice but to trust them. Let’s put our faith in Claude for now.”

* * *

As it turned out, the Almyrans needed a bit longer to recover from their hangovers than we thought. Besides that, the mess in the dining hall had _not_ been cleaned up, so Hilda had to scold them into scrubbing the place spotless with the threat that, if they didn’t, they wouldn’t get their post-battle celebration. It frightened me to think there’d be another of these.

It was two days later, after Hilda left on Tulip’s back to return to her childhood home, that we donned our battle gear and led the Almyran army and the remnants of the Kingdom troops to the heart of the old Alliance just past Riegan territory where it would make the most sense for our troops to clash.

Though it would truly be a mock battle of sorts, in that we would be staging a violent battle to goad the Agarthans, we still ran the risk that the Almyran army would turn on us. Dimitri wanted me to put faith in Claude, but Claude even admitted in his letter that the only reason his army was here was because of their lingering respect for Nader. If they, or even a single person in their army, believed that we were responsible for Nader’s death, there would be blood spilt here unnecessarily.

In which case, I supposed, Sothis’s gift of turning back time truly _would_ be needed.

This was all a risk. It hurt my heart to be doubtful at all the Almyrans, as if having any doubt at all put me in the same category as the Fódlan people they thought to be cowards. But I also understood where their anger and resentment came from, as someone who dealt with it after my father’s death.

It took an extra day to arrive in the valley that sat just southeast of Derdriu, the Aquatic Capital. The weather was fair, clouds blocking out the heat from the sun enough that the weight of armor did not seem overly warm. Sylvain still managed to complain about being hot, even though I found the temperature enjoyable.

Enjoyable for now, anyway.

The small Kingdom army faced the large, seemingly endless Almyran one, with Dimitri, the Almyran general, and I positioned at the front of both lines. Both groups, despite their numbers, were silent as they awaited our orders.

“Are you ready, my beloved?” Dimitri asked.

I tapped my temple twice and smiled at him, trying to feign complete confidence. Sothis had been quiet through most of this, likely because she thought this a foolish plan, but she spoke up in my head with a quick, _You can do this. Just be sure to leave some of your powers for the battle to come._

“I would like approximately ten-minute intervals between each use of my power,” I said. “This will give some semblance of an actual battle and should indicate to Theron that something is wrong, and I could potentially be in danger.”

Both Dimitri and the Almyran general hummed their agreement. The three of us shook hands and took our positions. The flag of the unified Fódlan rose beside each of our steeds, and the Almyrans cried out from atop their wyverns with battle cries that sent shivers down my spine.

Then the battle began. The troops clashed, the grunting of metal against metal real, but there was restraint to the movements on both sides. Dimitri rode around with Areadbhar pointed down but away from all opponents, and I hopped down from my horse with the Sword of the Creator unsheathed.

No real battling that I could see.

I focused on one spot in the picture of the world around me, pulling everything back to me and then releasing again. Time returned to the start of the battle, and the scene replayed out similarly to the first iteration.

I ran around the field, surveying the clash of the armies to make sure nothing was real. There were a couple of accidental injuries, men and women who would likely suffer concussions or small wounds. But it seemed the Almyran army was keeping its word—honorable through and through.

In the next half hour, I turned back time twice, and nothing changed from each previous part. Every time I used the Divine Pulse bestowed upon me by Sothis, I could feel the power within me change. It burned at first like a flame in my chest, one that raged and longed to be set free. But the more I used it, the smaller that flame got.

No appearance from the Agarthans yet. I would have to keep going.

_You can keep going for now. I can tell you when you should stop_, Sothis offered.

I could see the people around me losing energy as time continued. The “battle” waged on for nearly two hours, though some of that had been repeated several times. In reality, maybe an hour had passed for these people. The fire within me grew dimmer, but without the Agarthans appearing, I had to keep going.

One more repeat of time. No one around me made any indication they felt anything. They continued along the same path predestined to them, or so it seemed. Sothis believed in fate, and admittedly, watching these people follow the same course each time made me wonder if she was right.

_You’re running out of energy. You should stop now._

Where were they? Why wasn’t Theron showing up to check on me? Did he not need me—need my crest—for whatever it was he wanted to do with it? If I died, what good would my crest be then?

No, I had to keep going. I had more power within me.

I turned back time again, my breath becoming more ragged as if I had been truly fighting all along. I could see red, like Sothis’s anger at me was palpable, and I closed my eyes.

_I said stop._

But within those next ten minutes or so, there was still no appearance by Theron. How much did I have left within me to keep going?

Several soldiers on both sides had collapsed from exhaustion. Faking was almost more tiring than truly fighting, as movements had to be more rigid and controlled than usual. The battlefield appeared to be scattered with bodies and wyverns. No one had much left in them.

Dimitri, who also had abandoned his steed, ran toward me. “How are you doing? You look exhausted. Perhaps we should call it.”

I had to keep going. We might not have this opportunity again, and now was the best time. I could turn back time as far as I could, remove some of the fatigue from the others at least temporarily. I focused on Dimitri, but when I blinked, he was gone from in front of me, somewhere out in the field again.

_Byleth!_ Sothis scolded. _Stop right this instance._

More time passed. Thirty minutes give or take. Nothing. Where were they?

_Do not do it again. This is your last one._

I ignored Sothis’s voice. I missed her, certainly, but I did not particularly miss the nagging. I knew my body. I knew the limits. This was the last I could pull from the fire in my soul, all gone but a kindling. The world contorted around me for the last time.

But a minute passed before someone appeared from thin air in front of me—and then two, then three, then a dozen, and more. Some had hoods pulled over their faces, while others like Theron bore their true colors now. He was not in the front of the group, but I could see him in there.

He was the one who stepped forward and approached me, however. He broke from the small crowd of Agarthans and surveyed the field around us. It looked like a battlefield, surely. The blood didn’t pool across the ground as it had in some of our battles against the Empire, but there were enough accidental injuries and collapsed men and women to make it look convincing.

“The Almyran army…” Theron muttered, then looked up at me. “Your mutt-friend couldn’t prevent this?”

I swung the Sword of the Creator at the group of Agarthans, launching it like a whip, but the group vanished. I spun around as they appeared behind me, but it was a person just past them that caught my attention. Dimitri held Areadbhar offensively now and approached the group with fury in his eye.

A blast of purple light exploded from the Agarthans, and I shielded my eyes with my hand. When the light faded, a crater revealed itself where Dimitri once stood, but my husband was not to be found within.

Instead, I let my gaze travel further. I could see singed fur smoking just beyond the crater.

Dimitri…

I sprinted forward, past the Agarthans, and slid to the ground beside him. I tore off the fur cape and pulled off his breastplate, trying to hold my breath so as not to breathe in the smell of burnt skin. Tears burned in my eyes already, even before I held my ear down to his chest.

The scream that erupted me caused all fighting to cease.

It… couldn’t…

“Alas.” Theron stepped beside me. “It seems your poor husband is no more.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um. Sorry to end it on this note. And sorry that this update took a little bit longer. I’m sorry in general. Don’t hate me.
> 
> Also, if I don’t get a chance to update before all the holidays begin, I hope everyone has a very happy holiday season. Specifically, I believe Hanukkah begins tonight, so to those of you who celebrate, Happy Hanukkah!


	20. The Final Reset

**Chapter Twenty – The Final Reset**

Dimitri was still my student the first time I turned back time to save him. I watched him get thrown to a wall by Miklan’s monstrous form at Conand tower and heard his head crack against stone. He wasn’t the only one thrown about when the demonic beast raged around the room at the top of the tower: Sylvain, his own brother; Felix, who took up the front lines by Sylvain’s side; Gilbert, who was there only to support us in what should have been an easy fight; Ingrid, Dimitri’s protector even then. All wiped out by the thrashing of a tail and claws.

I loved all of them. I had only been their professor for about five moons at that point, but that was long enough for me to care about what happened to them, and certainly long enough to not want them all to die.

Admittedly, though, it was Dimitri’s body that I hurried to first. I stuck two fingers to his neck and two to his wrist, searching for a sign despite all the blood leaking from his skull that he lived. But silence, a lack of pulse, was all I found. I touched a hand to his cheek, still warm, and forgot for a moment that I was gifted the ability to turn back time. It was all I could do to hold his lifeless form.

_You can still save him, but not if you get attacked by the monster first! Hurry up and use the gift of Divine Pulse!_ Sothis ordered, and reason returned. I pulled us all back through time to as far as I could go then, since the power was still relatively new to me. Miklan was just overcome by the Lance of Ruin and turning on his own men.

“Get back!” I yelled to my own group, and we retreated just out of the room down the few steps leading up to where Miklan was. And this time, when Miklan’s enraged form thrashed and attacked, no one was close enough to get swept up by his tail.

Dimitri beside me looked up at the beast with wide eyes, and I put a hand on his shoulder.

“Be careful,” I said to him. “Watch for his tail, and try to limit yourself to throws. Getting too close will be dangerous.”

From there, everything went smoothly. Our class surrounded the beast and subdued him without further issues, and it was Sylvain himself who landed the finishing blow to his own brother—or what was left of him. We all remained in one piece.

It wasn’t going to be the last time I saved my students, least of all Dimitri, who lived recklessly during the war and wouldn’t listen to reason. It was unusual for me to _not_ have to save Dimitri during a battle, whether that meant jumping in front of him and protecting him from an attack he couldn’t see or turning back time to save him from himself.

Today, though, there was no turning back time to save him. I sobbed while holding him in my arms, tears falling from my cheeks and splattering against his armor.

“Go ahead, then,” Theron said. “Turn back time.”

He knew I couldn’t. That was why he was here now. Had he collected data on me all along when I was practicing building my power? Determined the number of times I could use it before thoroughly exhausted? He knew somehow, and that was why they showed up now of all times.

Felix and Sylvain, my ever-reliable knights, were here now. Sylvain dropped down beside me and held me in his arms and trying to convince me to leave Dimitri behind. Felix pulled out his sword and pointed it at Theron, but he surely knew it was a battle he couldn’t win, given the mass of Agarthans also present.

But he had to try. He charged at Theron, who didn’t even raise his arms. The other Agarthans cast their dark magic, and Felix flew back, blasted by the purple cloud he couldn’t avoid.

“Felix!” Sylvain shouted.

I gripped my hair, begging myself to pull one more Divine Pulse from within. But nothing happened.

“Sothis!” I screamed.

She listened, and I was pulled within myself to a familiar place in my mind. It had been ages since I saw her sat on her throne. Like my memories of my father, her image in my mind had begun to fade ever so slightly, but being here again brought her back into full clarity. I wished it was so simple for everyone else I lost along the way.

The two of us were connected, so I knew she _wanted_ to chastise me for not listening to her—give me a good old _I told you so_—and perhaps that was enough to satisfy her. Because she gazed upon me so pitifully, not angrily as I suspected she might.

“Let us weigh our options,” she said instead of scolding me. I wiped my eyes, still damp even in this plane of existence within my mind, and nodded. “By coming here to speak with me, time is indefinitely frozen… I do not know how that affects our enemies, but for the moment, let us assume they are frozen in time, as well.”

“Can we save them? What if—what if I just waited here until my powers recharge? Stay stuck in time until I can turn back the wheels of time again?” I suggested, reeling my mind for ideas. I had never tried anything like that before, but surely…

“You are weakening your powers as we speak by being here, by keeping time at a standstill. There is no possibility that remaining here will allow you to use the gift again,” Sothis said. She stood from her throne and approached me. Did she look a little older now? A little wiser?

She reached for my hand and smiled. How could she smile at a time like this? My husband… my greatest friend in life… and Felix, too, just now. I couldn’t save them.

_If turning back the hands of time was not enough to save his life, you must accept what came to pass was fate_, Sothis told me after my father’s murder. I had tried to go back and save my father from Kronya’s blade, but Thales intercepted my own attack.

Had… he, too, known when I turned back time?

“I believe so,” Sothis responded to my thoughts. “Perhaps I was misguided in telling you that it was fate that took your father. Thales appeared and stopped you from saving your father because he likely knew that you would know to save him. Kronya was surprised to see him when he arrived, meaning he was not meant to be present there that day. And do you recall what he told her?”

I nodded. “That she had to survive because there was some role she needed to fulfill.”

“Exactly, meaning that he knew you planned on killing her in order to save your father.” Sothis let go of my hand and turned her back to me, her long hair swaying as she shook her head. “So, Theron is not the first to have the power to recall time changes. This must mean I was wrong about fate. They have been manipulating things from behind the scenes all along.”

Wrong… about fate?

“This is good news. I do believe we can save the prince—oh, the king, I mean,” Sothis corrected, shifting slightly to look over her shoulder at me briefly. She turned back, lifting her arm in front of her, and from there, I could not see what she was doing.

When I stepped around her, it was as if time stopped within this place, too. Sothis was perfectly still, hand outstretched before her and eyes shut. Her chest did not rise with breath the way mine did, and her arm did not sway in the slightest.

“Sothis?”

She opened her eyes suddenly and dropped her arm back to her side. “Yes, this can work. I can harness the power developing within your unborn child for a single Divine Pulse. I’m afraid that is all this child has the energy for, and only for a five-minute journey back in time. Any more than that, and you could risk the child’s life.”

This baby, who bore the Crest of Flames as I did, could save his father. Could I be grateful to someone not yet born? Could I be indebted to my own flesh and blood still in the womb?

“Will any harm come to the child otherwise?” I asked.

Sothis shook her head. “He should be able to handle it. But again, you only have one chance at getting this right. Do you understand me? You _will_ listen to me this time, won’t you, Byleth?”

In this world of my mind, it didn’t make sense to feel, yet I could feel my cheeks begin to burn as she dug this knife deeper into my wounds. Surely I didn’t expect that she wouldn’t make _some_ reference to my inability to obey her orders.

I bowed to her. “I understand.”

“Good. Do you have a plan?”

Five minutes would bring me to even before the Agarthans arrived—barely, but it was enough. I would be overriding a previous Divine Pulse, which Theron would know. He would arrive more quickly this time, perhaps exactly where Dimitri was to prevent me from getting there first. Was it inevitable? Would Theron and the Agarthans murder Dimitri anyway?

No, he wouldn’t know where Dimitri was. He was tuned into _me_. Dimitri was nearby somewhere in the battlefield, that much I knew. It would be a race to see who could get to him first. They wouldn’t attack me, so if I made it to him first, he would live.

The other advantage—and I didn’t know how it would play as an advantage, simply that it was one thing I held over the Agarthans—was that they thought this was a true battle. Theron said something about Claude not being able to prevent this. He thought it was real…

How could I use this?

“We can’t keep this up forever, Byleth.” Sothis gestured to the space around us. “Are you ready?”

It was now or never… even though I served as a tactician during the war, I didn’t compare to Claude. And I certainly winged it more than once, gone into battle without so much as a plan with lives relying on me. But the thing was, I always had my powers to fall back on. And I didn’t this time.

Was… was I anything without my powers?

“You were a renown mercenary even before I shared my powers with you,” Sothis reminded me. “You can do this. Get back out there, save your husband and your friends, and stop the Agarthans from carrying on this foolish quest.”

She gave me no choice. I was thrust back into reality, back to where I was before I called out her name. Theron made no indication that he knew I stopped time to confer with Sothis. I pulled myself from Sylvain’s arms, who stared at Felix’s crackling body in the distance and made no effort to stop me. There were more tears staining my cheeks here than in Sothis’s plane of existence, and I wiped them away as I stood.

“Standing strong now?” Theron asked.

_Ready?_ Sothis asked.

Theron laughed. “It’s futile, you know.”

_Good luck_.

I didn’t have to do anything. Sothis pulled the strings, as she did the first time she ever turned back time for me, back when I saved Edelgard. I was pulled through time, sucked through a hole in my mind. The world warped around me, until it didn’t, and I was back on the battlefield.

This was it. I had to go _now_, while I had the advantage.

Which direction did Dimitri come from? I searched quickly, racking my brain for the memory of not too long ago.

_There_.

I gripped the Sword of the Creator and sprinted. Even as the Agarthans appeared around me, I kept running. Felix and Sylvain were both nearby, and I diverted temporarily from my path to latch onto Felix’s wrist.

“What the hell?” he snapped, but he followed me even after I dropped his wrist. Sylvain, too, was following.

“I’m saving your life, just keep running,” I said.

He didn’t object. No attempts to attack us were made from the Agarthans, most likely because if they did, they would end up hurting me, too. I would serve as both the sword and shield of my family now and protect them while bringing this new war to an end.

We made it to Dimitri before the Agarthans. I threw myself into his arms, pressing myself against him and leaning into his neck so I could whisper into his ear. “I’m out of chances to turn back time. I can’t save you again, so do not leave my side.”

“Again?” he repeated.

I wriggled out of his grip and turned to face the small army of Agarthan people. Theron emerged in front, his face contorted in rage.

“How?” he demanded.

“Almyran and Fódlan armies!” I yelled, though only those directly around me could hear over the clanking of metal from the false battle beyond. “Our enemies have shown themselves! Attack at will!”

The shift was immediate. The battle around me ceased, which served as a catalyst to direct the attention of the others fighting around us. Blades turned, different weapons unsheathed, wyverns bearing their teeth for the first time, and amidst the chaos turned unification. War cries rang out from the Almyrans, while the Fódlan army shouted to direct their attacks at the ones in hoods and masks.

The dark magic began at once, as well, and there would be nothing I could do now to save the people who met it. And if I died now—if Dimitri or Felix or any of my friends died now—it would be in battle, not by some cowardly trick. This was the time that mattered.

“Stay with me,” I ordered Dimitri again, and I charged forward with the Sword of the Creator held high.

Theron did not attack with magic this time; he pulled out a sword of his own, one that appeared to be coated in the same way that the blade that killed my father had. Some sort of Agarthium metal.

But he used it merely for defense and held it up to block my rain of attacks upon him.

“The child,” Theron said breathlessly as he withstood my slashing of my blade. “You used it.”

I finally got the upper hand. I struck upward, knocking the blade out of his hand. Dimitri, close behind me as promised, reached up into the air and snatched it by its hilt. Theron fell back, blocking what I hoped to be my finishing blow with a wall of magic as he held up his hands from the ground.

And then Dimitri and I both stood over him, the tips of our swords pointed at his chest.

The battle behind us grew loud. Strained cries, those of defeat, rang out from every direction. Agarthans, Almyrans, the people of Fódlan… all fell here. But for the first time since this mess began, we were one step ahead of them.

“This is not the end,” Theron growled. “And now you have only made us more desperate.”

Dimitri and I both swung, determined to cut his head clean off his shoulders. But when our blades finally crossed, it was without a body in between. There was no evidence that he had ever been there at all, except for one thing… the one thing that gave some hope that there might be an end to his trickery.

“Look,” I said, pointing to the side of the sword Dimitri held.

Against the black metal, something gleaming against the light. Blood. Dimitri got Theron.

“If it’s like the dagger used to kill my father, the metal has to be laced with some sort of dark magic, some sort of poison. It will kill him,” I suggested, but Dimitri did not appear as hopeful.

“The Agarthans will surely have the antidote…”

“Then let’s eliminate the rest of—”

I stopped when I looked up and glanced around the battlefield. Our soldiers and the Almyran army remained, some bodies strewn across the field. But the only Agarthans who remained were those that lost their lives, all others who came here to fight gone like Theron.

“Damn it,” I hissed, sheathing my sword. Dimitri dropped the Agarthan blade into the grass.

“We need to do a count. There are an incredible number of Agarthan mages who have fallen here. I would call this a success,” Dimitri said.

_As would I_, Sothis interjected. _You saved him._

“Dimitri, wait.” I grabbed his hand as he began to walk away from me, and he turned back. I moved my other hand to the back of his neck and pulled him into me, kissing him with all the might I could muster from the strength that remained within me. He kept his grip on Areadbhar but looped his free arm around my waist, feeding into my desire to keep him near.

“Do not leave my side. Still. Until this is over,” I told him when we broke free of each other.

“What happened?”

“I’d rather not discuss it,” I said and kissed him again.

We were interrupted not a moment later by Dedue, Felix, and Sylvain, who had not strayed far from us. “Your Majesties,” Dedue began, bowing as was his custom despite our repeated attempts to convince him otherwise. “The Agarthans have retreated, but their casualties were numerous. Of those that appeared here, I would estimate nearly half perished.”

“What of our numbers?” Dimitri asked. He squeezed my hand, still holding tightly despite those around us being able to see. “How many casualties on our side?”

“More. Hundreds, most likely. They were able to take out dozens at a time with their magic,” Dedue said. “The Almyrans suffered heavy losses due to their use of wyverns. They could not withstand the magic. Among the casualties, it is reported that the new Almyran general fell.”

My stomach churned. “How are we supposed to explain that to Claude?”

“It also could lead to disarray among their army,” Sylvain added. “They are already skeptical of us. If they sustained heavy losses, including that of their general, they’re not going to want to fight for us. And those of them who already dislike Fódlan might use this as an opportunity.”

“What, to attack? They’d be fools to do that,” Felix countered.

“It certainly is a possibility. Perhaps we are best off asking them to return to Almyra to regroup. We can use their retreat as a chance to deliver a message to Claude, as well. And with the Agarthan numbers down, we don’t require as many troops to stop them, should they attack,” Dimitri said.

I nodded. “In the meantime, let’s return to Garreg Mach. I feel like we’re painting a giant target by staying here.”

“Agreed. Gather the troops and prepare for roll call.” Dimitri looked at me this time as he said, “And let us count this as our first victory against the Agarthans.”

_A victory that almost was not. Do not frighten me like that again!_ Sothis yelled in my head.

“Thank you,” I told her. I could picture her rolling her eyes.

_Do not thank me. Thank your child. You must spoil this little boy rotten when he is born._

I smiled, but part of me could not feel that pride… because if I spoiled that child for saving me, entirely due to his inheritance of his crest, did that make me a hypocrite? What if it had been Alexi or Katrina in his place? They would not have been able to do all this…

No. Regardless, I would love my children all the same and hope that this boy would never have to be born into a world where he would have to use this power to save lives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the delay, especially after leaving it on the cliffhanger I did last time. Here is an update, and I hope to have another quite soon!
> 
> Dimitri is safe for another day, but that boy is walking on eggshells if fate truly exists. Poor guy. Dies in every route but his and then still has to suffer here. My bad.


	21. Downtrodden Hearts

**Chapter Twenty-One – Downtrodden Hearts**

I had hardly contributed much of anything to that battle, but I took one step at its conclusion and my knees buckled. Dimitri, who held my hand in his, tried to catch me, but I had already dropped to the ground before he could salvage any of my dignity.

Felix tapped me on the back, as if doing so would release a burst of energy that would get me back up on my feet. But for some reason, my legs felt like pudding, a soft, garbled mess of muscles and bones that couldn’t convince themselves to work together. It wasn’t like me to appear so weak in front of our army, but the strain of using up all of Sothis’s power left me empty of all fuel.

“Sorry,” I said with a smile to Dimitri.

“Don’t apologize.”

He got down on his knees in front of me, back facing me. Dedue stepped forward immediately, as I suspected he might, and offered his back instead.

“It is not proper for a king to carry another, least of all a woman, on his back. Allow me in his stead.”

Dimitri turned slightly to look at his vassal. “Dedue, she’s my wife.”

“There are onlookers, and it is not appropriate,” Dedue continued.

Dimitri relented. He stood and shot me a sorry look, but I didn’t mind it. To be honest, it was more comfortable holding onto Dedue, anyway. He was larger and his armor less clunky. Not to mention, I didn’t feel as guilty about my weight holding Dedue back—the man could lift five of me with no problem.

But it wasn’t as if Dimitri hadn’t carried me before, so my concern about _that_ was probably unfounded. I’d still been his professor the first time he had to carry me. That had been… during confusing times, to say the least. Outright horrible times, even, considering I had witnessed my father’s murdered and avenged him within the span of a moon, and that didn’t even include the whole goddess-fusing-with-my-soul thing.

Still, I could look back with a bit of amusement thinking back to that moment.

I must’ve passed out after all that happened, which, given Sothis’s affinity for taking naps whenever she wanted wherever she wanted, wasn’t surprising. But falling asleep mid-conversation with the Prince of Faerghus? Well, it was a good thing he was fairly rational then. He had taken it upon himself to carry me back to the monastery, and we were en route when I regained consciousness.

I awoke to the unfamiliar smell of sweat and something else—something sweeter, like honey or brown sugar—and, not knowing where I was or who carried me, thrashed against a young Dimitri’s back. We both had toppled over, causing Dedue undue stress and Sylvain a bruised gut from laughing so hard.

“I-I am so sorry, Professor!” Dimitri said as we both clambered to our feet. He touched my arm, and I could still feel his touch burn my skin even today. I shouldn’t have felt my heart, as it did not beat, yet I swore in that moment I did.

I backed away from him and shook my head. “No… no, I’m sorry. I must have… fallen asleep.”

“You… did…” Dimitri’s cheeks had turned bright red, extending like a flame to his ears. “I didn’t know what else to do, so I just carried you.”

“It’s okay.”

“Are you feeling all right now?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

And just like that, he awkwardly strode off. I should be embarrassed thinking back on that moment now, given that we had done things far more awkward than that now, but I loved him so much that I appreciated thinking back on moments that showcased his total innocence. What would have happened to him if Edelgard hadn’t done what she did?

Well, there was no use thinking back on _that_ now. It was all I could do to find joy in the memories that weren’t tarnished by Edelgard’s mistakes.

I grabbed onto Dedue’s neck now, and he hoisted me onto his back, my legs hooked near his hips. And even while carrying me, he offered to serve as a weapon valet, which had instead fallen onto Felix and Ingrid to share the duty.

“Hey, I could take over if you get tired,” Sylvain said to Dedue with a grin, one that was perhaps too sly, but immediately fell back after catching Dimitri’s eye.

I let my cheek press against Dedue’s back, and I closed my eyes. But a moment later, I felt someone touching my hair, and I opened my eyes to see Dimitri.

“Are you all right, my beloved?”

I nodded, then let one arm drop and held my hand out to Dimitri. “Don’t leave.”

I closed my eyes again as I felt Dimitri’s lips touch the back of my hand. “I would never.”

* * *

We reconvened at Garreg Mach, setting up a checkpoint at the gates to get the names of the soldiers. Some were visibly shaken given that this was their first real taste of battle, and others were in tears describing how they watched the knights around them be murdered before their very eyes. Others remained more hardened, going through the motions to answer our questions and then sliding into a seat with vague looks in their eyes as soon as they passed through the checkpoint.

As suspected, the Almyran army—in shambles after sustaining heavy losses and after losing yet another general—had no interest in returning to Garreg Mach with us, especially given that they were closer to Almyra now than at the monastery. Most elected to simply make the journey back to Almyra, while only a dozen or so young fighters came back with us.

This meant that we could only check the numbers on the Kingdom army, so we wouldn’t know accurately how many we lost in this battle.

Seteth came down from his office when he saw our troops returning, and he was already passing out bandages and ordering clerics to get to work healing our soldiers. When he saw me walk through the checkpoint at the end, once all our people made it through, he dropped what he was doing and hurried to my side.

“Lady Byleth. What happened out there?” he asked. “Where are the Almyrans?”

I sighed, and Dimitri walked on ahead to check in with soldiers. Now that we were in the monastery grounds, it would be safer for him to leave my side, but I still preferred that I could see him. The long journey back here had allowed some of my power to restore, and I ended up walking most of the way like the rest of them. But given that Theron knew all about my power and how I could potentially use it to manipulate him again, I would avoid using it at all cost.

“Most of them returned to Almyra. Because the Agarthans were using magic and most of the Almyran soldiers were wyvern riders, they sustained heavier losses than we did. Their general is said to have fallen, too. So, they didn’t want to come back with us,” I explained.

Seteth put a hand to his bearded chin and shook his head. “We needed their numbers to bolster ours…” He dropped his arm back to his side. “What of the Agarthans?”

“They sustained losses, too. Most likely not as many of ours. Dimitri and I injured Theron, but he got away.” I glanced around the crowd of soldiers around us and lowered my voice as I continued. “It’s still unclear who the leader behind all this is. Theron and Adonis referred to themselves as ‘mere descendants’ and both downplayed their roles, but I wonder if that’s a lie.”

Seteth thought for a moment. “The Agarthans are not like the Nabateans. They were regular humans who simply benefitted from Sothis’s gifts. They would have a normal human lifespan, perhaps a bit longer thanks to their technology and magic. So, if Theron and Adonis were both descendants of the original Agarthans, that likely means they were the ones that actually held a great deal of power within their tribe. The Agarthans must have recruited more people during their years underground, so to be a true descendant of the Agarthans must be rare after a thousand years of doing so.”

Meaning… Adonis and Theron were both more important than they gave themselves credit for, at least to my face. But if we defeated Theron next, who would be there to take his place? He took over Adonis’s role quickly enough when I killed him.

“Byleth.”

I snapped out of my own thoughts and looked up at Dimitri, who was back at my side. Seteth excused himself with a bow, returning to handing out bandages to injured soldiers.

Dimitri took me by the elbow to a less crowded area, not that anyone would be able to hear our conversation back in the crowd. There were people sobbing and people shouting, wyverns roaring and horses stomping their hooves.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

Dimitri shifted his feet and crossed his arms. “We got our headcount.”

“And the numbers are bad?”

He shook his head. “They’re good. We only lost about one hundred and twenty soldiers.”

I scrunched my eyebrows together. We estimated higher than that back at the field, so to be met with such low casualties was a blessing. It was times like this, after all, that made people believe in the goddess and her divine protection. To be fair, she certainly did help us this time around. Or at least me.

The silence that followed his statement lingered between us for a moment. He expected me to say something… but I wasn’t sure what to say, given that he was clearly still bothered by something. Did I rejoice in the good news, only to be squandered a moment later? Did I press, make my husband squirm?

He finally pulled me into him, pressing my face into his shoulder as he spoke. “It’s Ashe. He did not make it back.”

My eyes widened, and though I wanted to pull back, to escape Dimitri’s touch, I stood frozen against him.

Ashe… sweet Ashe, the boy who had been blessed with a kind adoptive father, only to watch him be killed by the church’s own. Ashe, who rose like a phoenix from the flames after that tragedy, who sought justice and truth and wanted everything to be fair. Ashe, the one who saw Dedue for who he was, not as just a man from Duscur. Kind, honorable Ashe, who just wed his bride not long ago.

Tears welled up in the corners of my eyes, but I swallowed and hardened myself. I had to be strong for the others. I had to talk to them, make sure they were okay. We were used to classmates dying, but not our own. We all made it through this together. We were supposed to make it out of this together, too.

“Does anyone know what happened?” I asked. My voice came out muffled against Dimitri’s shirt.

“Some witnesses said that they saw him save some Almyrans, but that he got hit instead in doing so.”

I pulled myself away from Dimitri and took a deep breath, holding it in my chest as I begged my eyes to dry. But I couldn’t hold it in. “Fuck,” I breathed, and I threw my arms around my husband’s neck and buried myself into him. He rubbed my back.

I couldn’t take this one back. I couldn’t save him.

“Dedue is coming,” Dimitri whispered in my ear and stepped away from me. “He doesn’t know.”

I sniffled back what started to drip from my nose and wiped my eyes. Being a leader, there was no time to be weak. I couldn’t have a moment to myself to cry with my husband. I had to hold whatever these feelings were in until I was in the privacy of my own room—and then, I had to be strong for my children. They wouldn’t want to see their mother cry.

So, I had to hold it all in.

“Your Majesties.” Dedue bowed when he reached us. “You should go clean yourselves up so we can hold a strategy meeting.”

Dimitri nodded, glancing in what he probably thought was a subtle way at me before refocusing his attention on Dedue. “Of course, we should do that. Byleth,” he said pointedly, “you should go ahead and get started. I’ll meet you in the room after I talk with Dedue.”

I knew how the conversation would go. It’d be unusual if Dedue showed any reaction at all to the news. After all, he witnessed the murders of his entire people, suffered for years while trying to make it back to Dimitri during the war, watched former classmates die. He would react with sadness, but not with emotion.

Yet I still didn’t want to be here for it. So, I followed Dimitri’s suggestion and left. The world around me was like a simple background picture in a book—there, but not the main focus of all that was happening. I couldn’t hear the clamor anymore, not even my own footsteps.

It was perhaps a miracle that no one bothered me on the way back to the room. The volume of the world around me was restored when Katrina’s giggle from the other side of the door broke through. I closed my eyes and held onto the doorknob for a moment, taking this one moment to breathe and remember Ashe. Sweet Ashe.

I entered the room, and Katrina and Alexi jumped up from their toys to greet me with squeals.

“Welcome back, Professor,” Mercedes stood up from the desk chair where she sat. “I hear quite a commotion out there. Is everything all right? Was your plan a success?”

I swallowed and shook my head. “Not really.”

It was… surely it was, given that this was the first time we had any sort of battle with the Agarthans and managed to get out on top. But…

“Oh.” Mercedes stepped over the pile of stuffed animals and blocks and took me into her arms. “It is a good thing that you’re back safe and sound, though.” She let go of me and smiled, then looked down at the kids. “I’m going to go see if I can help. They were great.”

“Thank you, Mercedes.”

She touched my shoulder as she walked by me, and I dropped down to the floor next to Katrina. She jumped into my lap and pushed her stuffed wyvern into my face. I squeezed her close to me, and then pulled Alexi in, too, when he walked over.

“I just want this world to be _safe_ for you… so that you don’t need to fight any more wars,” I said.

“Mommy, is okay,” Katrina said, reaching a hand out from my vice grip and touching my cheek. “Is okay.”

I grabbed her little hand and kissed her fingers. “It will be.”

When I let go of them, Alexi held out his own stuffed wyvern to me. “Mommy, I love you.”

I took his wyvern and held it close to me, and then Katrina handed me hers. “You have.”

A forbidden tear slipped down my cheek. These kids were so kind. What did we do to deserve them? To be fair, Katrina was probably giving this to me with some other plan in the back of her mind, like she wanted something bigger and better in return. But still. Alexi’s gift came from his heart, plain and simple.

“Is Daddy okay?” Alexi asked, looking nervously at the door.

“Yes, Daddy is okay.” I ruffled his hair and kissed his cheek. “Did you miss us?”

“I miss you all the time. When are we going home, Mommy? I want to go home…” Alexi leaned against me, holding his small hand over mine on my leg.

Katrina scooted off my lap and went back to continue to play with blocks, no longer interested in the conversation. But Alexi stared me down, his eyes wide with fear and sadness. What sort of scars had we left on his heart by leading him here?

“We’ll go home soon,” I told him. “I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember when I said I’d have a chapter quickly this time? Well… so much for that! I got really sick and was pretty much bedridden for a little bit, so that was fun. But I’m feeling better now, so I finally got a chance to update!
> 
> I’ll have some exciting news for you guys next week, so stay tuned!


	22. Invasive Species

**Chapter Twenty-Two – Invasive Species**

The greenhouse contained rare species of plants from around the continent and beyond, and students and knights were free to take what they needed as long as they contributed back. I used to grow a fair share of flowers as a professor at the academy, but I hadn’t stepped foot in there since returning.

But something called me there now. I pulled open the large glass doors and stepped inside the humid building. There were variations of flowers taller than me and some the size of my fingernail, but it was like stepping into a tropical rainforest that I had only ever read about. Fódlan itself did not appear so wild—except, perhaps, the people who caused all this misfortune were.

I bent down and peered at one of the tiny plants growing closest to the soil. It looked not much different from just a group of leaves, but they sparkled when the light hit them just right.

I just reached out to touch them when a hand clamped down on my shoulder. I shot up, a hand to my sword’s hilt, but paused when I saw it was only Dedue.

“My apologies, Professor. I did not mean to frighten you,” he said.

“You didn’t, I was just… surprised.”

He pointed to the plant I was just looking at. “That is a poisonous plant from Dagda. Touching it results in an unpleasant itchy rash.”

I glanced down at my fingertips, trying to remember if I managed to touch it. Dedue must have stopped me just in time. “Oh. Thank you.” I met his eyes again and frowned. “Why is it in here if it’s poisonous? What would happen if the students touched it?”

“It is an invasive species. Seeds must have accidentally been brought in. It is rather difficult to remove, but it is also possible that no one has noticed it until now.” He walked over to the cabinet near the windows and began fiddling with something inside. “Shall we borrow some gloves and get to work, Professor?” He held up a pair of gloves and some spades.

To be honest, I didn’t really have any interest in helping right now. I didn’t have anything better to do. I had been wandering aimlessly for the past day with too many thoughts in my head, and Sothis wasn’t helping. She refused to offer anything helpful, only that I shouldn’t blame myself for Ashe’s death.

How could I not? This whole thing was my fault.

But I had no reason to tell Dedue no, and I didn’t want his respect for me dropping. So, I nodded, taking the gardening gloves and spades from him while he grabbed his own pair. Neither of us were dressed for gardening, but that was not enough to stop Dedue from getting on his hands and knees in front of the plant.

“They are all along here,” he said, pointing from where he knelt. I dropped down beside him and saw the line of shiny plants trailing back into the flowers and bushes behind. “You have to remove their roots, or they will regrow. Cut the leaves and then pull the stems. Remove any leftover roots with the spade.”

We began to work. The two of us made great gardening partners. Neither of us spoke much, which made our work efficient. But Dedue was the more talented of us both, and he removed the plants at twice the speed that I worked.

The stems of the bunch I pulled snapped, leaving almost the entirety of the roots intact in the soil. I sighed, stabbing my spade into the dirt, and then sat up.

“It should be Ashe here with you,” I said, pulling my gloves off and throwing them to the side. “He should be the one helping you right now. And telling you what he plans on making for dinner… and….”

I trailed off, sitting with my hands on my lap and staring at my failure in the dirt.

Dedue stopped, too, pulling his gloves off and setting them between us. “When I first came here, I followed His Majesty only because he asked me to do so. I thought the idea asinine. People would not want to be seen around him if I was by his side. For the most part, I was correct in my analysis. Knights and students alike would whisper behind his back, wondering why they would bring a monster like myself to the esteemed Officers Academy.”

Dimitri mentioned it to me as a student, but there was only so much the two of us could do to change the minds of the ignorant.

“Still, I admit that there were some who treated me kindly in spite of the reputation of Duscur. Sylvain, Mercedes, Annette, Flayn… but more than anyone, it was Ashe who treated me like an equal,” Dedue told me. “He told me that despite being intimidated by me at first that he only wanted to get to know me better. Perhaps I should have tried harder during his life to get to know him, as well.”

What did that make of me, then, who knew Ashe even less than Dedue? Those two could often be found together if Dedue wasn’t with Dimitri. I imagined if Dedue wasn’t bound to Dimitri by gratitude and service that he probably would have been best friends with Ashe.

As his teacher, I should have done more to get to know Ashe more. I knew only what he told me, and I didn’t believe it to be my business to delve more into it than that. But perhaps I should have reached out more, asked more…

“I am saddened by what happened,” Dedue continued. “Ashe was the best of Fódlan.”

He slipped his gloves back on and returned to work. I watched for a while, letting his words sink in, and then put my gloves on again, too. And in silence, we both returned to work.

* * *

Time passed slowly when you were always on edge, waiting for the foes from the shadows to step into the light. But before I knew it, the second trimester of my pregnancy arrived, and my flat stomach protruded slightly. People who didn’t know I was with child might wonder if I gained weight or ate too much in the dining hall, but those who knew cooed whenever I wore something that showed my bump.

But this only reminded me of the passage of time and how I could not keep my promise to my children to go back home until this was over. Theron said that our victory would only make the Agarthans more desperate, but they had yet to make another move. So, until one of us moved first, we were still stuck at Garreg Mach, the only place safe enough for my family to stay.

War meetings were unproductive. Without more information, we couldn’t press forward. Yet, at the same time, we all preferred a proactive stance—were the Agarthans to attack innocent people again, as they had in Hrym, that would certainly alert us to their location. But at what cost? It would be better to prevent that from happening and stop them beforehand.

We couldn’t rely on the Almyran army anymore, though, and any soldiers who remained returned to their country as the days turned into weeks. The Kingdom army, too, grew restless here at the monastery, but Dimitri could not dismiss them while the threat still lingered.

Even Annette returned to Fhirdiad to the School of Sorcery, reasoning that she couldn’t be away from her work for that long when nothing was happening here. Sylvain returned to Gautier territory for a short period to check on things there and in Fraldarius territory, but he was back within days of leaving with no news.

It wasn’t until we had an unexpected guest that things livened up again.

I had made a habit out of helping Dedue in the greenhouse, as my training regime had to decrease significantly now that my pregnancy was further along. We were there picking weeds and watering the rainforest variety of plants when the doors opened and let a cool breeze in.

“Wow, Teach, you’re glowing.”

I dropped my watering can and turned, practically throwing myself into Claude’s arms. He must not have expected my hug, because he stumbled backwards and barely managed to steady himself. I almost burst into tears seeing him, but I couldn’t explain why.

_Hormones_, Sothis suggested. As the baby developed, her voice was clearer than ever in my head.

“Am I actually?” I asked when we let go of each other.

Claude grinned. “I have no idea what that means, I just always hear women say that to each other when they’re having babies.”

Dedue picked up my dropped pail, stood beside me, and bowed to Claude. “His Majesty will be pleased to see you. Your Majesty,” he said, addressing me, “why don’t you go to the training grounds to find him while I clean up here?”

I adhered to Dedue’s suggestion and gestured for Claude to follow me. “What are you doing here? How are things in Almyra?”

We exited the greenhouse and began our trek past the dormitories to the training hall. Some students who saw us stopped to whisper to each other, most likely because of Claude’s return, as they had stopped caring that Dimitri and I were around.

“Things have calmed down significantly. I admit when the troops first returned to Almyra, I thought about marching them right back around, I was so pissed off,” he told me. “But when they told me about the casualties, I couldn’t blame them. We only sent about two hundred men, and we lost about two-thirds of that, including the general.”

Two-thirds…

“We regrouped and rebuilt. I didn’t mean to abandon you.”

I waved him off. “I never thought that.”

“But I did. I left you to fend for yourselves after that, so I’m here to formally apologize.”

He stopped walking right near the second set of stairs up to the next dormitory building. And when he bowed to me, I immediately patted him on the back to encourage him to stand. But he stayed low, one arm in front of him and one arm behind his back.

“Claude, please stand. Students are watching. It’s not right for the King of Almyra to bow to the queen of another nation,” I hissed.

“I must return to Almyra, but it didn’t feel right to apologize via letter. Please accept my sincerest apologies,” he said, still bowed. “And I apologize for it taking so long for me to come here. I needed to be sure the whole of Almyra didn’t fall apart as soon as I stepped outside the borders.”

“Claude, _please_.”

He finally stood and smiled at me. He had gotten better at smiling with his whole face since getting to know me better, but this smile didn’t entirely reach his eyes.

“Now, Teach, what’s been going on here? You’re not usually so… affectionate.”

Ah. The hug. Yes. I tended to get a bit touchier when I was pregnant, anyway, but I was just so happy to see him that I couldn’t help it.

“Sorry, I just… things have been so awful here.” We continued walking now, and Claude had one hand hovering behind my back as I climbed the steps, as if I might topple over at any moment thanks to the extra weight around my middle. “Nothing has been progressing, and everyone has been overprotective of me to the point of refusing to try any of my plans if it involves me in combat.”

“Can’t really blame them, can you?”

I had stopped fitting in my armor a couple of weeks ago actually, so a combat role didn’t suit me much right now. It was unfortunate, but no, I couldn’t blame them.

“Are you sure you can’t stay?” I asked. “We could really use the Master Tactician right about now.”

Claude shook his head. We had reached the gates to the training grounds, and Claude started to push them open. “I’m afraid not. Things may have been secure enough for me to leaves for a few days, but the Almyran militia would be bothered by me helping you again after everything that happened.”

We were silent for the remainder of the short walk to the actual training grounds. There, we found Dimitri sparring against Felix. Felix had seemed a little down—subtly so, considering his normal nature—since Annette left. Sylvain whispered to me a few days ago that Felix had been humming again.

“Hey, Your Kingliness,” Claude greeted as we came into view.

Dimitri dropped his guard, and Felix got a hit in with the hilt of his sword. My husband doubled over, hugging the pain in his gut, while Felix frowned at having been interrupted. He would’ve gone for more if I hadn’t been standing there watching.

“C-Claude,” Dimitri coughed.

I left Claude’s side to join Dimitri’s, lighting some faith magic over his back to help ease his pain. He stood up straight again and whispered his thanks in my ear. We stood side-by-side, with Dimitri snaking one arm around my waist. His fingers just barely touched the start of my bump. I wasn’t the only one who got a bit touchier than usual.

“What are you doing here? Is the situation in Almyra improved?” Dimitri asked.

They launched right into a conversation, and I stepped away from Dimitri. Felix was over at the weapon stand polishing the sword he had been using. I sat on the ledge surrounding the dirt field and watched him, keeping one ear on the conversation between Claude and Dimitri in case any new information came forward—or in case my husband was able to convince Claude to stay.

It seemed Felix was listening, too, because he didn’t say anything to me. Then again, that wasn’t exactly unusual. He continued to wipe his blade, eyes beyond it, as if he wasn’t really paying attention to what he was doing. His attention was elsewhere.

“Hey,” he said suddenly, turning around to face the other men. “Shut up for a minute.”

Claude raised his eyebrows and stopped mid-sentence, and Dimitri’s brows knitted together. Still, neither of them argued. The room went silent as we all listened.

A slight rumble, melodic somehow. Far off, yet close by.

I knew that sound. I had heard it many times. It haunted me still in my nightmares. Based on how Dimitri’s eyebrows separated more as he listened, he knew it from his terrors, as well.

“Your Grace! Are you in here?”

A Knight of Seiros hurried into the training area, panting in his armor but taking no time to catch his breath. He bowed quickly to Dimitri, then turned to me and bowed, as well. “Your Grace, Your Majesty, my apologies for interrupting. We have a situation.” I gestured for him to continue, and he nodded. “An army is at the gates and has breached the walls.”

Felix dropped the weapon he was holding back onto the stand and took a silver broadsword instead, as well as a pair of silver gauntlets. Dimitri and Claude walked closer to the knight, and I stood. As always, I had the Sword of the Creator, but… there might not be enough time to arm myself further.

“Impossible,” Claude said. “I just flew over the area. If there was an army, I would have seen it.”

“It’s true, sir,” the knight assured him. “We don’t have much time. We need orders.”

“Gather all available soldiers—both Knights of Seiros and Kingdom army—and begin a counterstrike. Defend the monastery.” I paused, fearing the position we were suddenly in because of what I now had to do. “Recruit the students, as well.”

It was the last thing I wanted to do. My own students had been placed in this situation, too, and I wondered what things would have been like if we kept them protected from all of it. I didn’t want to prevent another unlucky group of kids from enjoying their youth and preparing for graduation, but…

“Yes, ma’am.”

The knight bowed and ran off. I hugged my arms around myself.

“What are the odds?” I asked, mostly to myself. “That all of a sudden, minutes after Claude returns, they would attack?”

“They’ve been waiting for an excuse,” Claude said. He frowned, then held two fingers to his mouth and whistled. The sound reverberated around the arena and echoed, and then it was silent again.

“Felix, stay with Byleth. Make sure she doesn’t do anything… questionable,” Dimitri ordered, but when he turned, I caught his hand.

“What do you mean by that?” I demanded.

He smiled at me and squeezed my hand before pulling himself away. “I will see you tonight.”

“Dimitri!” I yelled, but he was already off running.

I barely had time to move before the roar of a beast sent me stumbling back in surprise. Claude’s white wyvern dropped in from the open ceiling, landing with a _thud_ on the dirt floor and whipping its tail around. Claude hurried towards it and climbed up on its back using its wing as a step, and he looked down at Felix and I from a couple of feet above us.

“Just think of yourself as the last line of defense, Teach,” he said.

Then his wyvern took off, and he vanished from sight beyond the walls of the training grounds.

There was no way that Felix would follow Dimitri’s orders, right? He would let me go. If I told him I wanted to join the battle, he would have to let me go.

I started to walk, but Felix’s voice saying, “Professor,” stopped me.

“Felix, you can’t mean to stay here. You want to go, too.”

He nodded. “Yes, of course. But you’re in no position to battle and would be a hindrance on the battlefield. Not only would your movements be more cautious and therefore slower, but you would also be a distraction to Dimitri. If you go out there, not only would you be risking your own life and the life of your child, but you would be risking his life, too.”

Had I been… sidelined?

No, it was like Claude said. I would be the last line of defense. If the worst happened… if the Agarthans broke through… I would be here to stop them.

_Do you believe that?_ Sothis wondered. I silenced her from my thoughts and gave in to Felix.

“Fine. But I’m going to prepare.”

Outside the training grounds, the monastery was scrambling. Students were running to their dormitory rooms to put on armor, while already armor-clad soldiers clanked along the stone walkways towards battle. The sounds of war—the voices, the uniformed marching—was louder out here. They had more than last time…

But in the next fifteen minutes, as I gathered whatever armor still fit me, the sounds of war became sounds of battle. I was usually inside it, so to be on the other side, to hear it from beyond the battle, felt hopeless. It was exactly what it sounded like: death. But when I was in it, it was different. Here, death whispered by my ear, and there was no distraction to shut it out.

Fifteen minutes turned into thirty and then an hour. I kept the Sword of the Creator in my hands instead of sheathed as I stood in the empty marketplace, the last line of defense. Felix had found Sylvain and pulled him to my side, and the two friends stood on either side of me with their arms crossed, as if this was no more than an inconvenience.

_They want to be out there._

“Be quiet. I have to stay.”

“Professor?” Sylvain looked at me with a raised eyebrow.

I turned my attention back to the gate, the sound of battle beyond it continuing. All that stood between me and that battle was the gate.

No, Claude was right. I had to stay.

“Professor!”

Felix grabbed my shoulder and pulled, and I fell forward onto my knees. An arrow flew by where Felix had just stood, inches from where I had been, and hit the ground and snapped. I looked up, jumping to my feet with—admittedly—less agility than from the days before my pregnancy.

Cyril. Theron.

He stood at the top of the stairs past us, hand clutching a bow and bent from pulling the arrow back. He smiled when my gaze met his, and he lowered his bow.

But… he wasn’t alone. On either side of him stood two masked individuals, familiar beaked masks that had been utilized by mages on Edelgard’s side during the war. They were robed and hooded, as well, their appearances protected just as well as Theron’s own disguise.

“Had to sit this one out?” he asked.

I left no time to respond. I launched the Sword of the Creator, the fragments of the blade stretching and separating to extend its reach. It flew like a whip, twisting through the air as it soared towards Theron. But before it could reach him, the two mages by his side held up a magical barrier, deflecting the hit with their combined effort.

_The battle outside is a distraction…_ Sothis surmised.

“I am not here to fight. I am here only to talk,” Theron, through Cyril’s mouth, said.

“Hard to believe considering you nearly shot my friend’s head off,” Sylvain snapped.

“Just getting your attention. I knew you’d dodge it,” Theron said with a shrug. He made no effort to draw his bow again, and he kept his free hand by his side. So, at least for now, he spoke the truth.

The Sword of the Creator trembled in my hand, ready for another try. “I have a feeling if the talk doesn’t go the way you expect, force will be involved.”

Theron smiled, and as his lips curled upward, his disguise melted away. “Too true.”

“Then let’s skip that part because I’m not giving in to you.” I lifted the Sword of the Creator again and prepared to let it fly, but the mages stepped forward again and prepared the barrier before I could move. I looked around the area, and the weapon rack at the bottom of the stairs used to sell wares caught my eye. The Sword of the Creator expanded again, and I whipped it toward the distant rack. The sword hooked onto it and threw it, knocking the leftmost mage aside. The barrier dropped, and I let the Sword of the Creator go again.

Theron barely managed to dodge—not my sword, but Sylvain’s magic; while he was not the strongest mage, his fire still burned. A kindling caught Theron’s sleeve, and he had to pat it out.

Felix ran toward the incapacitated mage, and Sylvain turned his attention to the one who still stood. We launched into a battle of our own. Theron abandoned Cyril’s bow for two-handed magic, and it was when he lifted his arm that his collar shifted. A black mark like an ink stain painted his neck where Dimitri had hit him.

Had they been unable to remove all the poison?

“You would be wise to give us that crest willingly!” Theron shouted as I swung at him. He fired spells in either direction from each hand, but Felix and Sylvain both dodged while dealing with the mages themselves. “You’re going to watch everyone around you die, including your family.”

Theron only barely blocked my hit with a small barrier of his own. “You can’t fool me with threats anymore!” I told him.

“This is no threat,” he assured me, merely holding his barrier as I hacked away at it. “You must have noticed you’re no longer aging, at least not at the rate of a normal human. Sothis’s power has overwhelmed your body and changed it—when you took on her power, you took on more than that. You are going to live hundreds of years, which means everyone else will die while you live on.”

I shook my head. I knew it, of course, from my discussion with Claude. I had pieced it together. But… well, maybe I hadn’t thought that far again.

What about Rhea, Seteth, Flayn… my dad? They all lived longer than normal lifespans…

“If you remove your crest, you can prevent that from happening. We _can_ do it without killing you,” Theron continued. He gave up the barrier and dodged, switching places with me. He stood near the blacksmith’s tent now, where the flame still flickered in the forge.

“And then what? When you take it, what then? You still seek revenge on the Church of Seiros and all connected to it,” I pointed out.

Theron snapped his fingers, and the mages returned to his side with a flash of light, ceasing Felix and Sylvain’s fights.

“Our desire for revenge is against Sothis and Seiros, not with you. Without the Crest of Flames, you are no threat to us. So, not only will you be able to spend the rest of your days with your family, the way you should, but you will also be free from this war. All you need to do is give it to us.” He outstretched his hand, and I stared at it. If I took that hand…

I swung the Sword of the Creator. For some reason, Theron must have expected me to take his hand, because his eyes widened as the Sword of the Creator broke apart. The tip, glowing red, burned through his wrist. The mages at his side did not react in time to stop it, and everything went silent.

_I guess you did take his hand after all_, Sothis quipped.

It must have taken a moment for Theron to realize what happened because it was not for another few seconds that he grabbed his bloody arm and cried out. But it was not so much pain as anger that overtook him next, and his eyes practically glowed red with anger as he looked at me.

“Seiros did blasphemous things! You are the product of such a thing—alive only because she manipulated the natural order of things! But she is not the only one who can, and you will regret not willingly delivering that crest to us!” Theron roared.

And then he vanished, just like he had in the underground. The mages remained, and Felix and Sylvain returned to my side with their weapons ready.

“I told you a deal was a deal. But if you fail to uphold your end of the bargain, then I must break mine, as well,” one of the mages said.

Wait…

Both mages raised their hands to their masks and lifted them off. I swallowed. It couldn’t be possible.

“Did you miss me?” Adonis asked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long chapter! My goodness!
> 
> Okay, so my exciting news! I am a contributor for a Dimileth fanzine called My Beloved. There are a ton of incredibly talents people working on the zine, and trust me when I say that it’s going to be amazing. I wrote an exclusive piece for it, which I will preview for you below. It’s a not-for-profit zine, and all proceeds will be going to Able Gamers, a charity for children with disabilities to provide them with access to video games. Pre-orders are going to open on January 31st, and there is a lot of great content.
> 
> Here is my preview for my fic entitled, “The Reckoning of Snowfalls and Snowballs.”
> 
> [And then something pounced and shattered that peace, biting the back of her neck and burning beneath her clothes. She yelped and spun around to identify the culprit when she noticed Dimitri smiling at her from a short distance, far too content for someone whose fiancée had been attacked.
> 
> That was when she noticed a new weapon in his hand.]


	23. Growing Up

**Chapter Twenty-Three – Growing Up**

Adonis appeared much as he had before. One might never suspect that I had once _killed_ him. So, why was he here if I remembered snapping his neck so clearly in my memories?

There was no time to ponder it now.

“I killed you once—no, twice. I can do it a third time,” I told him, preparing to attack once more.

Adonis took a defensive stance, but there were openings. He doubted me, didn’t think I would go for it. I could tell that he thought I wanted answers; certainly, I did. The thing was, I didn’t have the liberty of getting answers right now. It was either fight or die. Live or lose. They would get my crest, or they wouldn’t.

The woman beside him held one of her arms up in front of her, and a white light burst forward. It reminded me of the magic used back in Shambhala to keep my immobilized in the chair. It had to be the same. I could no longer move, not even my eyes to check in on the men beside me.

The only good news was that I knew it would wear off, and I suspected they knew that, too. But who knew how much time this would last now?

She stepped forward towards us, her expression stoic, almost bored. She had dark hair, cut short, and the same grayish skin as the other Agarthans. It wasn’t until she lifted her other arm that I had any idea who she might be. Where a hand should be was something more metallic, like a part modified from one of those beasts from Shambhala that attacked me. It had parts like a hand, five separate “fingers,” but it was not entirely human in design. They resembled knives more than fingers.

“Seiros is not the only one who can use crests to manipulate the laws of humanity,” Adonis said from where he stood, even as the woman stepped closer. “Our brothers and sisters believed in our cause enough to use crests to save us. Agarthan medicine is well beyond that of normal humans, but even we cannot bring back the dead through natural means. So, we were inspired by you.”

The woman diverted from her path towards me and stopped in front of Felix. I could see her frightening fingers from my peripherals. And all I could do was pray to the goddess within me that she wouldn’t use them against my friends.

“For you to bear the Crest of Flames can only mean it was implanted in you. Yet the Crest of Flames we gave to our Flame Emperor did not produce any Sothis-like affects. How frustrating this was,” Adonis continued. “We realized there must have been some other connection—and through our investigations, we found out Seiros was committing the ultimate sin and creating life of her own volition. Your mother was one such creation, it seems. So, now, we had another mystery to uncover.”

The woman moved, but she was slightly out of my view now. I could not tell what she did, but I had a feeling I wouldn’t like it when we were able to move again.

“The mystery?” Adonis went on as if nothing happened. I could only hope for this to be the case. “All records we could retrieve indicate that the woman we suspect to be your mother died in childbirth—so, why would Seiros not save her? Unless she could only save _one_ of you. And the only way she could… well, that would be with the Crest of Flames she was spreading around. So, a new hypothesis: crests can be used to revive the recently deceased assuming all fatal damage can be reversed.”

To die, and to live again… my heart that did not beat… the crest that powered me…

“Well, the discovery was not made in time to save our high priest, Thales, but Sybil and I are so honored to have been deemed worthy. Crests are rare to come by, you know. These were harvested years ago during the war, but they retain their power even outside the body.” Adonis held out his hand and stretched his fingers, as if the new crest within him powered him. It seemed likely that it _did_.

The woman, Sybil, crossed in front of me to head towards Sylvain. I wanted to run my blade through her one more time, so desperately, to stop whatever she was doing to my friends, my students, but I couldn’t feel any hint of movement returning. The spell was more powerful than before, courtesy of the crest within the witch now.

“Now, you really should have taken Theron’s offer,” Adonis said. His tone sounded conclusive—this was the end, of me, of everything. The only thing I could do now was pray to Sothis.

_I cannot do anything. I have been trying, I assure you,_ she responded. Her voice was ragged, as if she had just finished running. _Byleth, recall that my powers are yours. Focus your energy. You can do this!_

Magic had never been my forte, not like the sword was, so focusing my energy didn’t mean much to me.

But I had just thought of it when a bright flash exploded around me, and Sybil was blown backwards towards Adonis. A second flash came next, knocking Adonis off his feet. He looked up from the ground, but his gaze was beyond me. He grimaced, then scampered forward on his hands and knees towards Sybil. He grabbed onto her ankle, and the two of them vanished.

The second they were gone, the spell dissipated, and I collapsed to my knees. Felix and Sylvain both collapsed, gasping for air beside me.

“Felix? Sylvain?” I breathed, glancing between them.

Someone else hurried forward to Sylvain first and knelt beside him. Warm light appeared for a moment, disappearing almost as quickly as it appeared. The person moved to Felix, and the same warmth radiated like a breeze again.

“Professor, are you all right?”

I blinked away the haze from my dry eyes and looked up to see Mercedes in front of me with her hand extended. I grasped it, and she helped me to my feet. Sylvain and Felix beside me didn’t move, and I stared down at them in horror as I noticed splatters of blood across the stone ground.

“They’ll be all right,” Mercedes assured me.

“How did you know to come here?” I asked.

“Alexi.” She smiled and grabbed my hand. “We were up on the third floor, and Alexi saw you heading to the marketplace. He said he had a bad feeling.”

Alexi…

_He saved you_, Sothis said. _Just like your other son did._

“They’re hiding in the library now, so they are all right. Still, I think we should probably get back to them, and bring Felix and Sylvain to the infirmary while we are at it.” She paused, and her gaze drifted down to my stomach. “Oh, but Professor, you shouldn’t lift anything. In that case, why don’t you go to your children? I’ll watch over these two until anyone comes back who can help.”

I nodded and squeezed Mercedes’s hand still holding mine. “Thank you, Mercedes.”

She smiled at me, then let go of my hand to gesture for me to go. I hurried away through the empty halls to make it to the second floor. I wondered how the battle outside the monastery was going—with Theron, Adonis, and Sybil’s retreat, I hoped that the remaining Agarthans would retreat as well.

Katrina and Alexi were in the library as promised. Alexi had grabbed a book of fables from one of the shelves and was reading the pictures to Katrina, who wasn’t really paying any attention. Instead, she was pulling books off the shelves, making a mess that the librarian would be angry to discover if we didn’t put it back.

Alexi dropped his book when he noticed me. “Mommy! You’re okay!”

“Thanks to you,” I whispered, sitting down on the floor beside him. “How did you know to send Auntie Mercedes?”

He hugged me, his arms as tight as he could get them around me. “I got this weird tingly feeling in my stomach. Like butterflies. Like someone telling me to help.”

Sothis?

_Huh, _was all she said, but thoughtfully, not as a question.

Magic, maybe? Was Alexi meant to study magic?

A loud clatter startled both Alexi and I, and he frowned as he stared at his sister. “Mommy, Katrina won’t listen to me,” he said.

“No!” Katrina announced gleefully and pulled another book down.

I knew she would grow out of it, but I still couldn’t wait for her rebellious toddler phase to be over and done with.

But then again… she would keep growing and growing and getting older, while I stayed me. She would surpass me, she and Alexi both, and this little boy within me, and they would turn gray before me. Dimitri would live like a grandfather should when Katrina and Alexi started families of their own should they desire it, while I would watch them grow older and older still.

I could watch the descendants of my family carry on the legacy left to them, a gift that others would never get to witness.

The converse of that being that I would have to watch them all die.

Except… my father…

He lived on because Rhea saved him. An infusion of Crest-bearing blood that extended his lifespan… I could do the same for my family, let them live on with me, live like Seteth and Flayn did. Spanning the ages for what would feel like an eternity, but as long as we were together…

I looked down at my hands, scarred and calloused, and clenched my fingers into my palm.

Alexi hugged me again. “Mommy?”

“Let’s teach Katrina how to put them back, okay?” I suggested.

We crawled over to Katrina and began to pick up the books. Even as Alexi and I restocked the shelves, and Katrina pulled them right back off, I couldn’t get frustrated with her. She was a child, learning and growing, and she didn’t know any different yet.

She might become someone like Alexi, kind and innocent, who didn’t get angry despite his sister undoing all his work. But then again, she might become someone different entirely.

How would I know unless I gave her the opportunity to grow up?

Unless… unless?

* * *

The soldiers returned from the field not long after the three Agarthans fled from the marketplace. As I suspected, the retreat of Theron, Adonis, and Sybil led the rest of the Agarthans to retreat, as well. But that didn’t mean there was no damage from the battle, as short as it was.

Dimitri held Areadbhar still, its tip stained red with blood no matter how much he wiped it clean, as he walked into the infirmary. Felix and Sylvain both woke before anyone returned from the battle and insisted on walking themselves to the infirmary—because they still _had_ to go, Mercedes ordered. Sylvain was sitting up in bed with Alexi on his lap, while Felix lay facing the wall.

“I was told I could find you here,” Dimitri said to me, shutting the door once Claude followed in behind him. Another makeshift infirmary would have to be made in the reception hall to make room for the injuries from battle that this little room could not manage. We would have privacy here for the time being.

Katrina wriggled as Dimitri picked her up, until she practically squirmed out of his grip entirely and nearly tumbled to the floor. Dimitri managed to catch her before she dropped headfirst, though, and then let her run free.

“How’d it go?” I asked.

Claude grimaced. “Well, when you keep taking your opponent by surprise, it’s easy to look good. I would say we did well holding them off, except…”

“Casualties were kept to a minimum, and considering it was an unexpected battle, this is the best we could have hoped for,” Dimitri said.

“Well, if it wasn’t for Mercedes, the three of us would be dead, so I’d say we fared great on our end, too!” Sylvain agreed cheerfully. I shot him a look, and he glanced down at Alexi. He covered my son’s ears before continuing, “I mean, is there a better way to die than with some lady’s fingers inside your chest?”

Dimitri shook his head. “Okay, Sylvain.”

“Why did you say ‘except,’ Claude?” I asked.

“A couple of students couldn’t hold their own. We did what we could.” He set Failnaught down in the corner of the room and then sat down in one of the armchairs at the foot of Sylvain’s bed. “I guess I didn’t think of _us_ as kids back then, but now that I’m older… well, yeah, they’re just kids. _We_ were kids when Edelgard started the war.”

Kids who had to grow up too fast. Kids who died before they could grow up.

Sylvain and Felix had been kind enough not to ask me about what Theron and Adonis said. I had a feeling that was why Felix was being so quiet, though. Not that he usually had a lot to say. Still, I couldn’t help but wonder if that was the connection.

I wanted to talk to them about it. Maybe I would at some point, but I couldn’t do it with the kids in the room. And I needed to talk to my husband first.

“It’s the reality of the time we live in. If we want these kids to see peace, _we_ have to be the ones to provide it for them,” Sylvain said. He took his hands off Alexi’s ears and instead ruffled his hair. “We have to protect the future for the ones who need it.”

Even though the moment was a somber one, I couldn’t help but smile. Sylvain didn’t take a lot of things seriously, which I learned was something he did on purpose, so when he showed himself in moments like these, I couldn’t help but admire him. He was smarter than he looked, smarter than he portrayed himself.

“Then let’s stop them. Once and for all. We must end this. It’s just a matter of figuring out how,” Dimitri said.

“About that…” I hesitated, glancing at my kids: Alexi in Sylvain’s lap, Katrina now on her stomach on the floor playing with her doll. “I think I have an idea.”

“Let’s hear it, then,” Claude said.

I shook my head. “I need to talk to Dimitri in private first.”

“Oh.” Dimitri’s eye widened, indicating his surprise, but he nodded all the same. “Then excuse us, everyone.”

“Daddy!” Katrina screamed, scrambling to her feet and running towards him. “Katrina go!”

“We’ll watch them,” Sylvain assured us, patting Alexi’s head. “And by we, I mean Claude will watch that one.” He nodded his head towards Katrina.

Claude sighed. “You got it. Go ahead. Just don’t take too long.”

He scooped Katrina up, leaving Dimitri and I free to make a break for it. We walked down to the cardinals’ office that we had used as a war council room more than it was ever used by the cardinals. I gestured to a chair, knowing that the discussion could be a bit… weird. He might need to sit down for it, lest he ended up sitting, anyway.

“Are you okay?” I asked first, sitting in the chair cater-cornered to his. I grabbed his left hand, flipping it over to examine the scars on his palm. There were traces of blood in the lines of his skin that he hadn’t managed to wash away.

“Was this what you needed to ask me privately?” He smiled, curling his fingers in and trapping my hand within his. “If I was all right?”

“Of course not, but shouldn’t I still check up on my husband?” I looked up into his eye, the color of the sky, and bit my lip as I thought about what to say. “No, it’s about… Sothis.”

_Me? What about me?_

“Is the baby all right?” Dimitri sat up straighter, and his grip on my hand tightened. I squeezed his fingers, my indication that he was too strong, and he immediately relaxed again.

“Fine. No, it’s about Sothis and _me_. You know when Solon sent me to Zahras, and Sothis gifted me all her powers so that I could escape?” I asked, and Dimitri nodded. “Well, like Rhea and Seteth and Flayn… I stopped aging as a result. Or, not stopped, but… slowed down significantly. So, while you continue your life as a normal human, I’ve been stuck in my twenties, and I will be… for I don’t know how long. I mean, Seteth has looked the same as long as we’ve known him.”

Dimitri shifted in his seat and inhaled deeply. “What does that mean for our children?”

“Well, I was thinking about that,” I admitted. “At first, I thought that I would have to watch them get older while I stayed the same because neither of them inherited the Crest of Flames. But then I thought… Rhea gave my father some of her blood to save him, and he ended up having a lengthened lifespan, too. So, if it’s the _blood_, then Alexi and Katrina would already have some of mine.”

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “But they _have_ been aging.”

“Exactly. So, in my case, I don’t think it _is_ the blood. I’m not actually related to Sothis like Rhea, Seteth, and Flayn are. So, I don’t think my blood makes a difference. It’s the Crest of Flames, the center of power that Sothis poured all her powers into, that is the source. I think… even if I wanted to, I couldn’t share this with you and the kids. Which leaves us with three options.” I snaked my hand out of Dimitri’s grip and held up three fingers.

“Live and watch the rest of us grow old and eventually pass away,” Dimitri listed first. “But you would also get to meet your grandchildren, and your great grandchildren, and the generations of our family as they continue. There are positive consequences of that choice as well as negative consequences.”

“I know we’ve talked about it before… and the possibility that either of us could die in war before the other. How we need to continue living no matter what happens.” I bit my lip and shook my head. “But I would rather not live without you and Alexi and Katrina, and the rest of our family, however it grows. I don’t want to watch my family die without me.”

Dimitri nodded. “I know how that feels, of course, and I understand the sentiment. So, what are the other options?”

I knew he wouldn’t like one of the particular options I had left, so I would go with the least painful next. “If I can’t be the one to give you blood and let you live with me, we could always ask Rhea or Seteth. I… think they would understand. Seteth would be less likely, but if he says no, that will require us to find Rhea. The question is, would you want to live that long? Thousands of years?”

I could see by the look on his face—first of surprise, then of uncertainty, then of understanding—what his answer would be. “If it means you will be happy, then of course I would. I think the kids need to make their own decision as they get older. But for you, yes, I would do anything.”

“But you don’t _want_ to,” I pointed out. “You would, but it’s not what you want.”

“Does it matter?” he asked.

“Of course it does. Which brings me to the third option… I sever my ties with Sothis and have the Crest of Flames removed. The Agarthans says they have a way of removing my crest without killing me, so—”

Dimitri leaned forward and kissed me, feverishly, passionately, desperately. My voice caught in the motion, and when he sat back down, all I could do was stare at him.

“Absolutely not.”

I smiled. “Is that all?”

“You are everything to me. I will not let you hand yourself over to the Agarthans again.”

“Then let me finish next time,” I scolded, and his expression softened. “As I was saying, the Agarthans can remove a crest without death as a result—if they can do that, then I have a feeling a certain scholar might be able to figure it out, too. If Hanneman can remove my crest, not only would that solve my problem, but it would also stop the Agarthans from hunting me down.”

“It would stop them from keeping you alive… they would still hunt you down, if only to kill you instead,” Dimitri pointed out. “And you wouldn’t have any of your powers to protect you anymore.”

“But they would be angry, and anger makes people sloppy.” Dimitri knew about that… he might have been more powerful than ever during his quest for vengeance, but he was also more reckless. “We remove the Crest of Flames, destroy it, and let them come. And when they do, with all the forces they have, we’ll be prepared and will destroy them.”

“What about our son? What about his crest?”

_I haven’t gifted him my powers, he simply bears the crest. He will age normally_, Sothis told me. Then, more strictly, she continued. _You know, I must admit, I am a little peeved that you haven’t included me in any of these discussions. Do I not have a say?_

I ignored her, mostly because I didn’t know what to say, and continued to address Dimitri. “Sothis says that because she has not gifted him any powers, he should age normally. But there’s something else… Adonis and Sybil were back alive, even after I killed them, because the Agarthans figured out a way to use a crest as a source of life. So, I had a thought… the Agarthans will continue to be after me if they think we haven’t removed our son’s crest, as well. We remove his, then. But there will always be the possibility, if our son wants it, to take that crest back. Have Hanneman preserve that one but let the Agarthans think it has been destroyed.”

Dimitri crossed his arms and closed his eye. It was after a few seconds that he looked at me again. “I can tell that this is the option you want. Are you sure you would want to give all this up?”

_My say is this, Byleth… whether you want to hear it or not_. Sothis’s voice was clearer than ever in my head. _Whatever you want to do, I will respect. You are my friend. I have lived twice thanks to you. Do what is right for you and your family, and I will support you no matter what._

“Ultimately, I’m human,” I said, both to Dimitri and Sothis. “I want to live the life of a human.”

“Very well.” Dimitri reached for my hand again, and I gave it over willingly. “Then we will call for Hanneman.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have had this ready for a while, but I just had no time this week to get anything posted. My apologies. It was a very strange week, haha.
> 
> In any case, pre-orders for the My Beloved Zine are now open until February 29th. If you are interested, there are five different tiers, ranging from a PDF copy of the zine only to a mega-bundle with lots of goodies! Remember that all proceeds go to charity, so it’s a good cause!
> 
> I don’t think I can really post a link here, so if you are interested in purchasing the zine, I recommend searching for “My Beloved Zine” on Google (or any search engine), and you will see their Twitter and Tumblr, and a little further down is the store (hosted by Big Cartel).
> 
> I’m really excited about it, as there are so many amazing Dimileth artworks and stories in the zine. 10/10 would recommend!


	24. The Father of Crestology

**Chapter Twenty-Four – The Father of Crestology**

It took a week for Hanneman to make it to Garreg Mach. He continued his research on Crestology after retiring from teaching at the Academy a few years ago out of the comfort of his home on the former border of the Kingdom and Empire. The express letter reached him quickly, it seemed, and he did not even reply before appearing at the monastery with his bags packed with all sorts of probing tools.

Luckily, the Agarthans remained quiet again. Their unexpected defeat—if one could even call it that—must have brought them temporarily to a halt again. They had been held off, at least, and their leaders pushed back. Theron would have to take care of that hand if he wanted to meet in battle again, but I would be happy to take the replacement off for him.

The unexpected arrival of the Father of Crestology—if only because we received no reply and did not know he intended on returning to Garreg mach—triggered a slight panic among the guards. Dimitri and I were convinced of his identity, however, when he immediately began asking us about our children and if he could examine them.

“With your supervision, of course,” Hanneman assured us. “It is _always_ fascinating to look at children who are the product of parents who both have crests. There is some evidence that—”

“The only person whose crest you will be looking at is Byleth’s. And… well…” Dimitri hesitated, and I shook my head. Not here, not in front of the guards.

“Oh, of course, of course—as I read in your letter. Hence why I am here! Fascinating, simply fascinating. You know, I had the opportunity during the war to speak with Linhardt, goddess rest his soul,” Hanneman bowed his head, but then looked back up at me. “He was wise beyond his years and would have made an appropriate apprentice to carry on my work. Nevertheless, his research during the war indicated that he had been looking into removing crests from individuals. You see, both he and I knew that Lysithea had twin Crests, and he had been looking into the possibility of extending her lifespan by removing one. Upon hearing of their deaths in the war, I vowed to carry on that research!”

I gestured for Hanneman to follow me. Dimitri took his suitcase, glancing down nervously at it. Even with his strength, he found it heavy. I could tell from his grimace.

Hanneman had been a kind colleague to me, exceptionally thoughtful after the passing of my father. And I found amusement in his bickering with Manuela (sometimes). But he had always made me… well, slightly uncomfortable. And the idea of him poking around with my crest again could open up a can of worms for which I was unprepared. Still, this was the best option for my family.

His office had been taken over by one of the new professors at the Academy, so we set up shop in the cardinals’ office. Dimitri set the suitcase on the end of the long table, and Hanneman immediately flipped the locks. The suitcase practically burst open; several metallic tools fell out of it and onto the floor. Dimitri and I exchanged a look, his brow low over his eye.

“Hanneman,” I began. “Obviously… you’re here. But may I ask how confident you are in your ability to safely remove a crest?”

Hanneman pulled object after object out of the suitcase, setting up something that looked more dangerous than helpful. “Unfortunately, most of the process requires a great deal of magical theory and background, as well. The church has always been hesitant to rely on more gruesome methods of medicinal healing and experimentation, even though this would open the doors for those without magical proficiency to practice these skills. I have been working with both magical Crestology and non-magical Crestology, but I would appreciate it if you did not mention it to Rhea.”

“I am afraid that did not really answer Byleth’s question. And I feel I should remind you that Byleth is the archbishop now, not Rhea, so she wouldn’t need to mention it,” Dimitri corrected.

“Ah, that’s right. Well, then, we have nothing to worry about as long as you don’t mention this to the cardinals,” Hanneman said, looking over his shoulder at me and smiling. “What I am trying to say is that I am confident in my ability to remove your crest, but it will be through unconventional methods that the church may not like.”

“How soon can you do it? We are unfortunately in the middle of a… situation. The sooner the better,” I said.

Hanneman nodded, returning to his set up. It was amazing how he fit so much stuff into that suitcase of his.

“Allow me some time to finish setting up. Perhaps an hour? I may get some lunch first, as well… let’s say two hours, yes?” Hanneman suggested.

Dimitri and I left him to his work, shutting the door behind us as we left the room. I bit my lip and looked at Dimitri, who reached over and patted my shoulder.

“Are you still sure about this, my beloved?” he asked.

“‘Unconventional,’ he said. I think that sounds promising.”

“You know I’m no good at jokes, but I _think_ you’re joking?” Dimitri wondered, and I nodded. He took my hand, and we walked down the hallway back towards the infirmary. “We can find another solution.”

“Like what?”

Dimitri didn’t say anything. We walked silently into the infirmary, where Alexi was playing cards with Sylvain and Katrina was hitting her dolls’ heads against the floor. Felix was sitting up in his bed, which was a welcome change compared to his sulking as of late, but he still avoided my gaze whenever I tried to meet his eye.

“Did I hear that Hanneman is here?” Sylvain asked, placing a card down on top of the pile in front of him. Alexi set his card down and then scooped everything up.

Sylvain and Felix were, for the most part, healed up. But Mercedes ordered them to rest for at least a week, as any stress on their wounds—magically healed or otherwise—could lead to internal damage. Felix was itching to get out of bed, but Sylvain seemed to enjoy the break. Tomorrow, though, they would be free again, and Alexi and Katrina would have to find new entertainers.

“Hanman,” Katrina repeated. “Hand man!” She stabbed another doll’s head into the floor.

Felix growled and stood up. “I’m going for a walk.”

“You’re not supposed to go out yet,” Dimitri said.

Felix, of course, just brushed past Dimitri, knocking him in the shoulder as he left the room without another word. The room remained silent for an extra couple of seconds after until we could no longer hear his footsteps.

“Mommy, why is Uncle Felix so grumpy?” Alexi asked.

Sylvain laughed and ruffled his hair. “This kid.” He put down another card and then frowned when Alexi did the same. “This kid… is kicking my butt.”

“Why _is_ he in such a foul mood?” Dimitri asked. “Just because he can’t train?”

Sylvain shrugged. “I’m afraid it’s more than that. It has to do with your dear wife.”

Aha. I knew it did. He had been off since Theron and Adonis spoke about my crest extending my lifespan. But I didn’t entirely understand _why_. Did it have to do with Glenn? Felix held a strange view about life and death, at least compared to others from nobility. But having an extended life didn’t mean one couldn’t die, so it wouldn’t have helped Glenn. Why was he so bothered then?

_Not so much your crest as the crests of others, perhaps_, Sothis suggested.

Others?

“Byleth? What about Byleth?” Dimitri stepped closer to me, just a little, and I looked at Sylvain to see if he noticed. He grinned at me, a sure sign that he did, and he enjoyed the implications.

“Oh, he’s madly in love with her, just jealous is all,” Sylvain jested.

Dimitri crossed his arms. “Enough, Sylvain.”

Sylvain put another card down and whooped when he claimed victory over Alexi for once. My son stuck out his tongue while Sylvain looked away.

“This kid is seriously good. I have a feeling he’s cheating somehow, but I can’t catch him in the act.” Another card down—another loss for Sylvain. “Damn, he’s good.”

“Felix?” Dimitri prodded.

Sylvain rolled his eyes. “One-track mind, huh? Fine. He’s bitter.”

“That’s enough gossiping.”

Felix walked back into the room, deliberately walking around Dimitri this time. We watched him sit back down on the bed, eyes not on any one of us in particular, and then it was silent. No one spoke, except for Katrina whispering to her dolls as she launched one across the room.

“That was a fast walk. I feel like we were set up,” Sylvain said.

“We weren’t—” Dimitri began, but Felix held up a hand.

“Ask me yourselves instead of being a bunch of cowards. It’s pathetic,” Felix said, picking up a book from the small table beside him and opening it to a leafed page.

“You’re not exactly the most approachable,” Sylvain pointed out.

“Uncle Felix,” Alexi said. “Why are you grumpy?”

Felix looked up from the book and raised an eyebrow towards my son. “This kid is yours?” he asked Dimitri.

“Okay, that’s enough,” I said. “Can you just be clear with us? Something happened the other day when we fought with Theron, Adonis, and Sybil. You’ve been avoiding talking to me since that happened, and I don’t think it’s just because you’re injured. It’s something having to do with what they said, but I don’t know what I’ve done to offend you. I’m the same person I’ve been.”

Felix shook his head. “Don’t flatter yourself. It’s not you.”

“Then what?”

“It’s not your business.”

“But you just said—” Dimitri began angrily, but I put my hand on his arm.

“Let’s not push it. Come on, why don’t we go see if Claude is around?” I offered instead. Katrina jumped to her feet, leaving her dolls scattered around the room but grabbing her stuffed wyvern.

“Uncle Claude!”

“Can I finish my game?” Alexi asked, and I smiled. It was hardly a game. I had to wonder if there was some truth to Sylvain’s claim that he was cheating. Maybe it was more of that magic that was suddenly rearing its head.

Katrina, Dimitri, and I left the infirmary. Sothis was probably right—I didn’t know exactly what she meant, but she wasn’t offering up anything more than what she said. Not my crest, but the others’. Who? And why did that bother him so much?

Well, it was no use bothering Felix about it now. He would tell me when he wanted.

_Don’t be offended. He’s always mad at someone._

True… it just usually wasn’t me.

* * *

Hanneman was still tinkering with some of his tools when Dimitri and I returned two hours later. But the cardinals’ room appeared more like a medical office now than a war room, which was not the improvement one might think. He had apparently claimed some fresh sheets from the storage room to lay out across the floor, and spread out across the table were vials and beakers, each with a different colored liquid inside.

“Just finishing up,” Hanneman assured us. “Professor, if you could please take a seat?”

“Um.” I glanced around, and Hanneman pointed to a chair on the opposite side of the table from his equipment. Dimitri sat down next to me, staring at the sharp metal rod hooked up to one of the vials.

What should I feel as I looked at all these items? Fear? Anxiety?

_I shall miss the opportunity to speak with you again. I’ve been watching all these years, unable to say anything to you, and it was quite lonely. To have been able to enjoy my time with you once more was… a blessing I may not deserve. But at least we were still together. Now…_ Sothis sighed. _As I said before, I support your decision, and I understand. But…_

But this was the end of everything. If Rhea knew what I was about to do, she would be beside herself. Would she understand, though? This was for the sake of my family. She ought to know about that, right?

_I wish for you to know_, Sothis continued, _that I have enjoyed the gifts you bestowed upon me, however unknowingly. I am proud to have been your friend._

“If my son wishes it, you’ll see me again,” I whispered to myself.

_Thank you for everything._

“I am ready. Professor, if I may.”

I looked up to find Hanneman before me with his hand outstretched. I put my hand in his and glanced back at Dimitri. He nodded at me, but it was a mistake to look. My heart. I could feel it somehow. And suddenly I felt sick to my stomach, ready to run out of the room if I knew no one would stop me.

“It’s okay, Byleth. I’ll be here,” Dimitri said.

I followed Hanneman to the sheets and lay across them. He walked back and forth from the table, carrying different vials over and setting them down beside me. I closed my eyes, rubbing my hands over my protruding stomach.

This was for us. For my family.

“You will feel a pinch. Please do not worry. This is to make sure you stay asleep longer than magic will be able to manage,” Hanneman’s voice said from above me.

He stuck my arm with something, and I winced.

Yes, this was… for us… for my family…

* * *

When I next opened my eyes, I was in a familiar place. The darkness of the room around us was not frightening, but comforting. I did battle here once. When? Oh. It wasn’t a pleasant time. It was the start of Dimitri’s downhill battle with himself. And yet my memories here…

“I wasn’t expecting guests.”

I climbed the stairs towards the voice. Sothis lounged on her throne, one elbow propping her up, but when I stopped in front of her, she sat up straight and smiled.

“You’re asleep,” she told me.

I nodded. “Hanneman must be getting to work now. It will be any moment now.”

“Well, you must have been brought here for a reason. Usually I summon you here, and yet here you stand, uninvited. This happened one other time. Do you remember?” She smiled. “The first time we ‘met.’ You so rudely woke me up.”

“Sothis… if you are the beginning, what does this mean for me? That this is the end?” I asked.

Sothis leaned back on her elbow. “Well, I am the reason you’re alive. It could very well mean that.”

I sighed. Sothis was not the goddess to go to if you were looking to feel better.

“However,” she added, “you have changed. You know how your father wrote in his diary that you were a child that never cried or laughed. You know how to cry and laugh and smile and feel now, after all. Perhaps this evolution is evidence that you don’t need me anymore.”

“Aren’t you the reason for that?” I asked.

Sothis frowned, brushing a lock of her bright green hair over her shoulder. “If all else fails, I am sure Hanneman can give you another crest to save you again.”

“I don’t think he goes around harvesting crests like the Agarthans.”

Sothis laughed. “Oh, I believe you underestimate him.”

Perhaps so. He was a tad eccentric.

Sothis stood and gestured for me to come closer. She stepped out of the way of her throne and held her tiny hand towards it. “Byleth, this is yours.”

“Why?”

She stomped over to me, pushing me from behind. “Do not argue with a goddess.”

“I’m not arguing. I just want to know why.”

“You will still be you. I never defined you. You will never be able to use the Sword of the Creator again. You cannot utilize the power of the progenitor god to turn back the hands of time. You may find yourself weaker than before. And yet.” She pushed me harder, until I stumbled over my own feet and had to catch myself on the arms of the throne. “And yet you are still _you_.”

I turned back and looked at Sothis. She was tiny. A child. But this child was the one who gifted me with all I had.

She nodded at me, and I sat down.

As soon as I hit the seat, the room began to change. The Holy Tomb was engulfed in darkness, until all I could see was Sothis in front of me. I held my hand out towards her, and she reached for me. But before our fingers could touch, she was ripped away from me, swallowed by the darkness that had taken over the room.

“Sothis!” I called, before the darkness took me, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um, so, let’s just pretend that this didn’t take me over a month to update, okay?
> 
> I hope everyone is surviving the plague all right. I am currently working from home, and it’s pretty darn awful. But I’m hanging in there, so I hope you all are, too. I’ll try to be better about updating now that I’m pretty much stuck inside forever.


	25. Alone Again

When the darkness relinquished me, I opened my eyes and found myself back in Garreg Mach. Dimitri hovered over me, his face red with worry. I swore I could see traces of a trail down his left cheek as if he had been crying, but he would never admit it if I asked.

“Byleth!”

He reached out and brushed the hair from my eyes before scooping me up into his arms. He pressed me against his chest, his chin resting against the top of my head. I could feel his heart beating through his chest, pounding like beats of a drum.

And then I felt something funny. Something similar.

But… within me.

Dimitri pressed a kiss to the top of my head and then held me tighter again. He controlled his strength, sure not to break me, but I still made an attempt to wriggle out of his arms. After a moment of holding me more, he loosened his grip and looked down at me.

“Byleth…”

I put a hand against my chest. The steady _thump, thump, thump_ was no mistake. I moved my fingers to my wrist and felt for a pulse, and sure enough, I could feel it tap against my fingertips.

“My heart,” I breathed.

And then out of the corner of my eye, I noticed something else odd. My hair fell forward from behind my right ear. It had been so long since I last saw my natural color. But that was what I saw now: dark hair that reflected blue in the light.

“I didn’t…” Dimitri placed a hand on my cheek and sighed. “I thought for a moment you wouldn’t wake up. When your hair changed, I thought that was it. And I couldn’t find your heartbeat, but then… it started.”

“She’s gone.” I grabbed his hand in mine and lowered it into my lap. “Sothis is gone again.”

Dimitri stood, and I tried to push myself to my feet. Something felt off, and I wobbled beside my husband. He wrapped an arm around my waist. “You probably shouldn’t be standing yet. Hanneman wants to run some tests. I was supposed to go get him when you woke up.”

“Give us a minute.”

He nodded and then pulled himself away from me when I appeared steady. He walked over to the wall and grabbed the Sword of the Creator which leaned against it. It did not glow in his hand, did not react to him. He came back over to me and held the hilt out to me.

I hesitated. My hand was outstretched, ready to grasp the blade once more, but I couldn’t bring myself to lock my fingers around it. It would not awaken for me anymore. Without Sothis, without my Crest, the Sword of the Creator was just bones.

I swallowed my pride and took it.

Nothing happened. No red glow. No surge of power.

The sword fell from my grip, clattering on the floor. My hands shook, and I lowered myself back to the floor beside the blade.

“It’s okay.” Dimitri knelt again and touched my back. “You’re still you.”

“I feel weird.”

He frowned and tore his gaze away from mine. “I cannot say I understand what you’re feeling right now. But I imagine I would feel strange, too, if I suddenly had all my power stripped from my very being.” He looked back at me and rubbed my back again. “But Sothis wasn’t responsible for _all_ your power. You are still you.”

I smiled. “She said the same thing.”

“A wise goddess.”

The door burst open just as Dimitri leaned his face towards mine, and he rose to his feet. Hanneman clapped his hands together when he noticed me conscious.

“Marvelous! How are you feeling, Professor?”

“Oh, never better,” I responded, and Dimitri smiled. The humor was lost on Hanneman, though.

“Fascinating, isn’t it? Your physical changes were always entirely correlated to the goddess’s presence within you. So, with the removal of your Crest, we also managed to remove your ties to the goddess, thus reversing the changes.” Hanneman rubbed his chin, his eyes sparkling behind his monocle.

I reached out for Dimitri’s hand to get up, but Hanneman shook his head. “Remain where you are, Professor. I would like to test—”

My sudden cry of pain made Hanneman cease his proposal. Dimitri knelt beside me once more as I hugged my arms around my stomach and doubled over, pressing my forehead against my knees. I lifted my head as another burst of pain shot through my abdomen and gritted my teeth. The air escaped between my lips like a hiss.

“What’s going on?” Dimitri demanded as he glanced between Hanneman and me.

“Baby…” I breathed. I relaxed when the pain subsided, exhaling slowly and sitting up straight again.

Hanneman walked over to the table and grabbed a couple instruments from the assortment laid out across it. Dimitri’s eye widened when Hanneman came over with an object that appeared to be some sort of flask and another like a large monocle.

“What will you do with those? Should we send for Mercedes?” my husband asked.

“I do not believe you will need to. Your wife is not far enough along for that to have been a contraction nor do I believe the baby is in danger. If my hypothesis is correct…” Hanneman held out the flask towards me. It could very well just be a large vial of blood, but there was something luminescent about it. “This is your child’s Crest. As requested, yours has been destroyed. But I suspect that the baby is adjusting to being without its Crest, just as you will need to, as well. Expect pain such as that to be sporadic for a while—perhaps a day to a week.”

He grabbed my wrist, flipping my hand palm up. He handed Dimitri the flask and then held the monocle-like object over my arm just below the heel of my hand.

“Indeed. As expected.” Hanneman reached back for the flask and then returned both objects to the table. “Now, might we test your reflexes, reactivity, strength, magic?”

“Are you all right?” Dimitri asked me, and when I nodded, he helped me back to my feet.

Hanneman retrieved a piece of parchment and a quill and then ordered Dimitri and I to spar with wooden weapons. He took notes as we fought, though Dimitri lacked his normal vigor. Only once did we have to pause as the pain began again, though Dimitri insisted we stop to let me rest. When I attempted to catch him off-guard as he spoke with a burst of magic, I lifted my hand, only for nothing but the briefest spark of light to appear. Hanneman immediately scribbled more and directed me to try again.

We sparred for nearly a half-hour, a fresh layer of sweat glistening on my forehead by the end. Hanneman finally called for it to end, and Dimitri threw a cloth at me to dry my face.

“Well?” I asked Hanneman. “My magical prowess is naught. What else?”

“Some of it could be attributed to your pregnancy, of course, but based on previous data collected, it appears that your strength has decreased slightly. Your reflexes are still good—surely the reflexes of a talented mercenary, yes?” He moved his hands to grip the parchment lower as he continued to read his notes. “Reactivity is good. You bounced back from parries quickly. I suspect your faith magic will never be what it once was, but you should still be able to master reason magic once again with enough practice.”

“That’s good,” Dimitri offered, and I nodded.

“It seems your stamina has been diminished as well, even more so due to your pregnancy. But do not expect to be able to maintain the level of involvement in battle that you have enjoyed in the past,” Hanneman continued. “Overall, however, you should notice little change. Much of your power has always been your own, it seems.”

It bothered me that I was relieved to hear this—that I could still be me even without Sothis’s power. That I could still protect those I loved without her.

But now that I had gotten used to her voice once more, it seemed awfully quiet without it.

“If I may ask, what do you plan on doing with your son’s Crest?” Hanneman asked, shaking me from my thoughts.

I exchanged a look with Dimitri, and he nodded at me. “I think we ought to lock it away. It _and_ the Sword of the Creator. I do not want to keep them with any one person and risk someone getting hurt.”

“Where would you lock them?”

I stepped towards the Sword of the Creator and picked it up, holding the blade I once called my own as if it belonged to a stranger. “Back where they belong.”

* * *

Hanneman returned to his home with all his tools packed away again not long after we returned the Crest of Flames and Sword of the Creator to their rightful places. I suspected he hoped I would change my mind and allow him access to the Crest of Flames, perhaps even allow him to take it with him. When I didn’t, he thanked me for reaching out to him and informed me that he would not be staying the night.

For now, we needed to come up with a new plan to deal with the Agarthans. Now that I no longer had a Crest for them to take, they would be unable to use me as they desired. But it was also true that they would likely stop at nothing to eliminate me now, with no barrier in the way to keep them from doing so.

When our friends gathered to discuss new plans, more time was spent gawking over my appearance than devising tactics. Sylvain, who once told me that I looked even more beautiful after my changes when Sothis originally gifted me her powers, now assured me that I was lovelier than ever once again, and that he had missed gazing into my cornflower-colored eyes.

Felix, meanwhile, seemed even moodier than before and avoided looking at me altogether. I kept looking at him, hoping to catch his eye, but he was stubbornly proficient at averting his gaze elsewhere.

Once we got past my new-old appearance, we managed to discuss actual plans. The Agarthans had been quiet, but we doubted that would last much longer. But we would need to take advantage of the fact that they did not know that my Crest, and the Crest of my child who would be their back-up plan, had been removed. If they suspected I still had it, they would continue to treat me as indispensable. And as long as that was the case, they would hold back around me.

We would need to work out further details later, but the formation of a plan had begun. I left the meeting feeling confident that this was almost the end, that we could win.

I put a hand on my bump and sighed. This child would know a world without suffering. I would make sure of it.

Our group began to disperse in time for dinner, leaving Dimitri, Sylvain, Dedue, Felix, and me behind. Dedue walked around the table pushing in chairs and wiping down the tabletop, and I smiled when Dimitri and Sylvain started to help him.

Felix started to sneak out of the room when he thought I wasn’t looking, and he froze when I called his name.

Sylvain looked up from the piece of parchment he had picked up off the floor. His eyes flickered between his best friend and me even as he bent down and picked up another piece of scrap from under a chair.

“Wait.” I followed after Felix and then linked his arm with mine, pulling him out of the room and beyond earshot of the others. “We need to talk.”

Once I stopped pulling him, he loosened my grip on his arm and took a step away from me. “I _need_ to train.”

“No, hold on.” I blocked his path out of the hallway, leaving him trapped in the dead end. His gaze traveled beyond me, as if he were searching for a way out. “You’ve been acting weird around me since our fight with Theron, and I want to know why.”

“I’m not acting weird,” he assured me. For some reason, he sounded genuine. Perhaps he did not know.

My eyebrows knitted together. “Yes, you are.”

“No, I’m not.”

This would get us nowhere if this were to serve as our argument. I moved to the side and held out my arm, allowing him a path free. But he did not leave.

“I’m not immune to grief,” he finally said. “I have lost people I cared about. My brother, my father, my friends. There have been times when it felt hopeless, but I knew that the only thing to do was keeping marching forward. Everything changed when Glenn died. _Everything_. But all I could do, again and again, as things got harder, was make the decision to let it happen.”

“It’s why you were so angry with Dimitri,” I pointed out, and he nodded. “Why you hated that he let revenge consume him.”

“Yes. And it’s why…” Felix stopped himself before he finished his sentence and then started over. “I’m not angry with you. I’m angry with Rhea.”

And if he was angry with Rhea, he was in turn passive towards me. Because I was just an extension of Rhea, really. She was the one who gifted me life through Sothis, the one who put me in this position as archbishop, the one who made me the professor of the Blue Lions. Felix connected Rhea with me, so if he felt any animosity towards her, he would extend it to me.

“She had the power all along to save those around her—you’re living proof of that. Adonis and Sybil are proof of that. I can’t help but wonder if all these deaths have been wholly unnecessary. Maybe my brother didn’t have to die. Maybe Dimitri wouldn’t have rampaged if she saved his father.” Felix shook his head. “It’s useless to think about now, especially because it would have been impossible to save them all. Yet I think about it all the same.”

“You think about and still you—”

“Move forward,” he finished for me. I smiled at him—it was perhaps a bit of a pitying glance. “Take a step and then another.”

“I’m proud of you,” I told him.

He smiled for a second before finally walking past me so I could no longer see his face. “Don’t patronize me, Professor.”

“Are you really going to train?”

Felix looked back at me, all hints that he had been smiling gone, except for the light in his eyes. “I think I might get a meal first. Would you like to join me?”

“Sure,” I agreed. “And then I’ll destroy you in the arena.”

* * *

As the days continued uneventfully, our team managed to come up with a plan. Without my ability to turn back time, this would have to be executed perfectly. It had been years since I felt such pressure. During my time as a mercenary, I always had my father behind me ready to come to my aid if I messed up. It had never even been a consideration that he could have been lost.

Now, it was all I could think about. Who would die because I ruined some part of the plan?

As it turned out, I didn’t need to worry about ruining the plan. The Agarthans would make sure of that all on their own.

I sat with Alexi and Katrina in my room reading a fable written by Seteth that he lent me when the knock on the door interrupted us. I lifted Katrina off my lap and stood, one hand on my back. The pain I had been experiencing over the past few days since the Crest extraction had mostly subsided, but it left an ache in my lower back.

Sylvain stood outside my door, a small package in his hands. His skin was pale, and he glanced past me at the kids. “Can you step outside for a second?”

“Alexi, you want to show Katrina the pictures?” I asked my son, who nodded and picked up the book larger than his head. I closed the door behind me and looked at Sylvain, then at the little box. “What’s that?”

“I found him,” a third voice interrupted before Sylvain could respond. Mercedes hurried over with Dimitri and Dedue in tow.

Sylvain handed me the box, and I lifted the lid carefully. Within rested a gold-rimmed monocle, the glass shattered within. The light from the sun reflected off the web of pieces, sparkling like stars. Beside it was a roll of parchment tied shut with a red silk ribbon.

My stomach twisted. My heart—my _heart_—began to beat so that I could feel it weighing within me again.

“Professor Hanneman…” Dimitri said, reaching into the box and picking up the shattered monocle.

I set the box down and retrieved the scroll. The ribbon slid off with little effort. I unraveled the document and bit my lip as the pain of my own heart beating grew stronger with each passing moment—with every word as I read its contents—with every breath.

“They know,” I said finally, passing the scroll off to Dimitri. “They know that I got rid of the Crest of Flames because they have Hanneman.”

Sylvain cursed.

I watched Dimitri as he read it, his eye narrowing.

“Theron want to meet with me, unarmed and alone,” I said when Dimitri passed the letter to Dedue. “To negotiate.”

“Negotiate? There’s nothing for them to negotiate,” Sylvain said. “He’ll just kill you if you meet with him.”

I looked at the monocle in Dimitri’s hand. “I won’t go alone, and I won’t go unarmed. But I will meet him. And when I do, I won’t stop at just cutting off his hand.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been busy working on a project for another zine, this time focused on Dimitri. I want to thank everyone who supported My Beloved, the dimileth zine. If you did not read my piece, it is currently posted on AO3 and is entitled, “The Reckoning of Snowfalls and Snowballs.” More information about the new zine I am a part of, A King’s Journey, coming soon.


	26. Negotiations

No one sided with me.

Even Seteth, whose opinion was not needed on such things, adamantly opposed my plan. “Rhea would have my head if I let you walk willingly into such an obvious trap.”

To which I responded that Rhea was not here and that I was the head of the church he _served_, but that hadn’t gone over well with him, especially given my new circumstances. He told me I reminded him of Flayn when I spoke so brusquely and not in the way he missed.

Of course, he was already in a bad mood these past few days. My changes… well…

The cool demeanor he worked so hard to achieve over the past few years vanished the instance he saw me. He rushed to my side, gaping at me without the ability to speak momentarily. His hand shook as he reached up to touch my hair, but he stopped himself before touching me without permission.

“What have you done?” he breathed.

“Now is not the time to discuss such things. We are working on a plan to deal with the Agarthans now. Hanneman is already on his way back to—”

“_Hanneman_ did this?” Seteth became even more frazzled as he stepped away from me and began to pace. “Can it be reversed?”

I saw there would be no way for me to avoid discussing this now. I nodded at Dimitri, and he continued on to gather our war council. I pulled Seteth into his office and pushed him down into a chair, and he slumped against the back with wide eyes.

“Rhea will kill me…”

“Rhea will do no such thing,” I assured him. “I saw no other choice. The Agarthans are after my Crest and will not stop pursuing me and putting others in danger until they get it—so, I removed the source of their pursuit. The Crest of Flames has been extinguished.” I paused, watching Seteth’s gaze travel up to mine. “I know this complicates things… that my Crest was the only reason I was made the archbishop to begin with, since I grew up with absolutely no knowledge of the Church. But we will have to deal with such things another time.”

“And the goddess?”

I inhaled sharply and crossed my arms over my baby bump. “My connection with her has been severed.”

Seteth looked away from me and rubbed his temples. “Rhea will be devastated.”

I sighed and sat on the edge of Seteth’s desk. “I know that she… was family to you. I’m sorry,” I said. “But I have preserved her. My son inherited the Crest of Flames, and Hanneman extracted that Crest. We hid it away. Should my son choose to, he can regain the Crest, and he will develop a connection with Sothis.”

Seteth lowered his fingertips from the sides of his face, as if realization set in. “How so?” he asked. “The reason you developed a connection with the progenitor god in the first place was because Rhea placed her heart within you. Edelgard’s autopsy revealed that she, too, bore the Crest of Flames, yet she did not have a connection with Sothis. In other words, the Crest alone is not enough to connect with her.”

The Crest… wasn’t enough?

“I’ve been able to hear her voice, and she told me it was because of my son. I do not pretend to know all the answers. To be honest, I never thought passing along the Crest of Flames biologically to a child was possible, yet…” I paused, holding a hand in front of me and staring at my palm. I curled my fingers in and let my fist drop back to my side. “Perhaps it was because she shared her powers with me that it could be passed on.”

Seteth nodded. “It is conjecture, to be sure, but a reasonable one. You say that you hid your child’s Crest away?”

“Yes.”

“That’s good,” he said slowly, “but this certainly—as you say—complicates things. No one can deny your prowess as a leader, but the cardinals of the church may be hesitant to allow you to continue to serve as archbishop when your connection to the progenitor god has been severed. Perhaps it is best if we… say nothing for now.”

“How do I explain this?” I asked, touching a strand of my hair.

“Let us keep you out of the spotlight of the church for now. That will be easy enough given your condition; we can use your pregnancy as an excuse.”

The cardinals hadn’t met in quite some time, given the current circumstances with the Agarthans, so it was no problem to hide this information for now. I wondered what life as a queen, one with no connection to the church, would be like. Certainly, tensions would ease…

The days of formulating plans continued beyond that moment all proved for naught, given the note we received about Hanneman. So, now we were gathered again, with people who thought they knew best for me telling me what I should and should not do.

Admittedly, it stung a little that no one wanted me to do this. It was not a question of trust; I knew that much. But with the Agarthans always a step ahead of us, it seemed too dangerous an operation to go willingly into a situation that was surely a trap.

But that was the catch: I _knew_ this was a trap. I assured everyone that I would not go unarmed or unsupported, but that was not enough to relieve the doubt in their minds. I understood, truly, I did. To think about Hanneman, an innocent bystander in all this who I pulled into the fray myself, levied an incredible amount of guilt on my shoulders. He should not have been involved at all.

Dimitri, supportive husband that he was, could not be convinced either. The best-case scenario, he thought, was that the Agarthans spoke the truth, and it was the most unlikely of all scenarios. I could meet up with an unarmed Theron, and he would negotiate an exchange of Hanneman. But the only thing we had of value was my son’s Crest, and we didn’t know how much information Hanneman shared. It was not an exchange we could make, knowing that handing over that Crest could result in the deaths of hundreds or thousands, depending on what the Agarthans wanted with it. Considering their hatred for the children of the goddess and humans alike, it didn’t look good.

Could we weigh the life of one man against the lives of thousands?

Of course, it would never get to that point. I would not be unarmed, and I could potentially end Theron’s life then and there. But to what end? Would he just be brought back to life like Adonis and Sybil?

And surely Theron would expect such doubts in my mind. He knew that I would not appear unarmed or alone, so he would not either. Thus, a negotiation was out of the question. This meeting would result in bloodshed only.

The trick was that I needed to make sure the only blood that spilt was Agarthan.

But we could not get the conversation that far. We left the meeting with the Knights of Seiros with no plan.

I would not give up there. It was time to call on the Master Tactician.

Once the Knights of Seiros and their generals left, I called back my students—they were the ones I could trust no matter what. And even though they did not like the idea of sending me to meet the Agarthans, either, I had a better chance of convincing them with reason.

“Claude, I want to kill two birds with one stone. Get back Hanneman and get an edge over the Agarthans. We need a scheme,” I told the Almyran king. His eyes flickered towards Dimitri, as if he held some reservations about going against the wishes of Fódlan’s king, before landing back on me.

He sighed. Not a good sign.

“Teach, I think we’re better off sticking to the original plan. I know you want to rescue Hanneman, but I don’t see how we can without putting you in danger,” he said. “Even if we sent you with forces, that would reduce the forces protecting Garreg Mach, which could be exactly what they’re looking for. Split the forces, reduce the defenses.”

I tapped my fingers on the wooden tabletop. There had to be a way…

My fingers stopped. “So we don’t split them. I only need two people. Everyone else can remain here and protect the monastery and the location of the Crest.”

Claude’s gaze softened, the hint of a smile on his lips. “The one person they would _expect_ you to bring no matter what… and me.” Claude stood up and walked over to the blackboard, erasing the chalk with his sleeve. “I see. I serve as a sniper, hiding my location and waiting for an opportunity to strike. But once I loose my arrow, all hell will break loose. You won’t be able to avoid a battle.”

“The place Theron wants to meet is curious, though,” Dimitri interrupted. “The village at the base of the monastery… it will be crowded. I am sure he chose that location in order to prevent you from striking out against him, knowing that it would bring innocent villagers into the fray. Should you attack, he could set flame to the town.”

“Plus, there’s no saying that even if we get Hanneman back that he hasn’t been done in like Cyril was. They could have taken over his body and want to use him for a spy,” Claude added. “It could all be for naught anyway.”

So, there was no convincing any of them. Their points were valid. But I couldn’t help but think that this was the way to go. Perhaps I would be playing right into their hands, but at the same time, did they truly expect me to agree?

What was the answer the Agarthans wanted?

“I’m sorry, Teach.”

I nodded at Claude and relaxed into my chair, both hands gripping the sides of the seat. The child within me kicked, kicked again, and I closed my eyes.

“Back to the original plan. We will draw the Agarthans out using—” Claude cut off as he picked up a piece of chalk from the base of the blackboard. He held it between his index finger and thumb, staring at it with a furrowed brow.

“Claude?” Dimitri asked.

Claude tapped the chalk against the blackboard, leaving behind some white residue that flaked to the floor. Before he wrote anything about our formations for our old plan, though, he turned around with his lips pursed. He didn’t say anything right away, and our group watched him without interrupting his thoughts.

Finally, Sylvain tried, “What’s… going on?”

The Almyran king held up a hand, and Sylvain backed down, but not without looking at me and shrugging.

It took Claude another moment to sort out his thoughts. He turned back to the chalkboard and drew a large rectangle, flanked in spots that appeared randomly spaced with small Xs. Then in another space on the blackboard, he wrote three more Xs, two paired together and one a foot or so away.

“What do you think, Teach,” he started, still facing the blackboard and tapping the chalk again, “about making a trade after all?”

Dimitri curled a fist against the table, and I placed my hand on top of his as I sat up straight again. “What kind of scheme are you cooking up?” I asked.

“Well, if what you said Seteth told you is true, you were the only one who could use the Sword of the Creator after Nemesis because you had the progenitor god’s Crest Stone. It wasn’t enough to just have the Crest of Flames. Meaning,” Claude waved the piece of chalk as he spoke, “now that you destroyed that, there is no one at all who can utilize the Sword of the Creator. It’s useless. But the Agarthans don’t know that.”

My newly beating heart skipped a beat. “So… give them the useless Sword of the Creator in exchange for Hanneman…” I considered it briefly and frowned when I realized what it meant. “That gives Rhea one more reason to hate me, and I’m already going to be breaking her heart when she finds out about what I did. She would feel so betrayed. I’m not sure I have the power to give it away.”

“She bestowed it upon you. It’s yours to do with as you please,” Claude countered.

I wasn’t so sure. Those were the bones of Rhea’s mother we were talking about. It wasn’t my place to just go and give the Sword of the Creator away, whether she bestowed it upon me or not. It would be like someone giving away my dad’s remains. A disturbing thought.

Claude must have seen my hesitation because he added, “You’ll get it back when we defeat them. Rhea doesn’t even need to know.”

It seemed irresponsible, as many of Claude’s schemes were. But he had a point. The Agarthans wanted the Crest of Flames, meaning that they probably also wanted to use the Sword of the Creator for whatever their plans were. Or thought they could.

“Fine,” I agreed. “Tell me more.”

* * *

At the time and place designated on Theron’s letter, I stood without any visible weapons beside a heavily-armed Dimitri. Claude perched himself in a tree a hundred or so feet away, Failnaught poised and ready to loose an arrow should he be needed. And even further back, outside the limits of the village, Dedue held the Sword of the Creator wrapped in linen.

Back at the monastery, elite soldiers were placed throughout, guarding locations with seemingly trivial reason. Sylvain and Seteth prepared themselves outside the Holy Mausoleum, Felix and Mercedes stood within the Holy Tomb, Ingrid and Annette—who agreed to return for this plan—guarded the entrance to Zanado, as well as a few Kingdom soldiers spread throughout the grounds for added protection.

There was no telling if the Agarthans would return Hanneman even if they received the Sword of the Creator. It was also likely that this was a distraction to lure me away from the monastery so they could search from the Crests they hoped still existed. Our game would need to be a perfect one, and knowing Claude, he would think of it all.

Allowing Dedue to hold onto the Sword of the Creator would give us an excuse to remove ourselves from the village. The Agarthans likely would not show Hanneman to us until we showed something of value to them. We just needed to convince them it was something they wanted to see: outside the village, outside their layer of protection.

And then what? If Hanneman was “alive”—whether he was turned Agarthan or not—we could make the trade. If they refused to show him, we assumed the worst and walked away with the Sword of the Creator. Theron wouldn’t want that, and he would make some excuse to keep us there, whether it meant attacking us or bargaining.

If he attacked, so did Claude. And now we would be outside the village, where it was slightly safer. The Knights of Seiros would enter the village once we left it and move to evacuate the citizens, just in case.

If he bargained, we would be able to play a little longer.

What if Theron refused to leave the village, refused to set foot outside the protective wall he set up for himself? Or if he didn’t believe that we had the Sword of the Creator? Well, it mattered little. We would walk away. Again, if he attacked, so would Claude, and at that point, there would be little we could do to protect _all_ the villagers. But the Knights of Seiros would be close by.

Even if we walked away with Hanneman, with the Sword of the Creator in the hands of the enemy, that didn’t mean the end. The Agarthans were likely to make some sort of move. And if they did, so would we.

If anything, this game would end in a temporary draw, but one that would allow us to gain the upper hand: because I didn’t plan on allowing Theron to leave alive.

All the pieces were in place. The only thing we needed now was Theron to show himself.

He arrived late, but like me, he did not arrive alone. Two masked Agarthans flanked either side of him, neither of which matched the body structures of Adonis or Sybil. Surely Theron realized the risk I poised and would make sure that even if he fell here, the Agarthans would continue on.

Of course, given the fact that Adonis and Sybil had already been resurrected once before, there was no telling if Theron would stay dead.

“Thank you for joining us here, Your Holiness.” Theron bowed, swinging his arms to the side as he lowered his head. His hand had been replaced with something similar to Sybil’s, with claw-like features made of a mysterious metal.

When he lifted his head, there was a smirk plastered on his lips.

“I see you did not adhere to all our terms, so I hope you do not mind that we did not either,” he gestured to the two Agarthans beside him.

“You’re being rather amicable today,” I said.

Theron laughed. “Shall we end the niceties and get straight to the point then?”

“I came from a mercenary background—I’ve never been one for formalities.”

His smirk relaxed into a smile. “Very well. We invited you here today to negotiate. Your dear colleague Hanneman von Essar informed us, very much against his will, that you have removed your Crest. As if it was not obvious enough by your appearance,” he added, his gaze flickering to my hair. “Not just your Crest, but your child’s, as well.”

I nodded. “That is true.”

“You must have been driven to such desperate measures to do something like this. How unfortunate. You would terminate your connection with that so-called goddess just to justify the safety of your family? Give up your powers and immortality for them?” Theron folded his hands together and clicked his tongue. “Humans are such simple creatures.”

“And you were the ones who drove me to this point.” I reached for Dimitri’s gloved hand, and he shifted Areadbhar to his other hand to clasp mine.

“How… sweet.” Theron’s nose wrinkled for a moment. “Alas. It seems that nothing can be done if you destroyed such precious commodities. Unless…”

He looked at me expectantly, even though I doubted he thought I would fill in the blank for him. As I figured, he knew this detail, too. This was necessary, if not disturbing. If he thought that we destroyed both Crests, what would be the purpose of offering him the Sword of the Creator?

When I did not finish his sentence, he continued, “You kept one. Once again you prove that humans are simple creatures. You wish to offer your son the _choice_? He would not have ever known. You already have one child born without a Crest, do you not? It would be no surprise to have another.”

“A surprise, no. Still, he will be a person in his own right and deserves the option to choose his own destiny,” Dimitri responded, “as we chose ours.”

Theron’s expression darkened as Dimitri spoke, but by the end of my husband’s sentence, he simply seemed bored. “Lucky for you, then, that you have another choice to make.” He turned his attention back to me. “If you deliver that Crest to me, we will end our feud with your family. By my word, you shall live the rest of your days in peace with your husband and three children. All you must do is give me the Crest of Flames.”

I exchanged a glance with Dimitri. It was an… intriguing proposition. Guaranteed safety.

But… safety for us alone? Not for our friends, Rhea, the Knights of Seiros? Whatever he needed the Crest for was not something that would end this war, but further escalate it. As king, Dimitri wouldn’t be able to ignore the threat. As archbishop—even if only temporarily given my new circumstances—nor could I.

Dimitri nodded, and I inhaled deeply. “I’m afraid we cannot accept that. But that isn’t to say we could not negotiate something else. Dimitri’s vassal is waiting outside the village limits with the Sword of the Creator. Since I am unable to use it anymore, it is of no use to me. Today, we ask that you return Hanneman to us in exchange for the sword.”

The corner of Theron’s lips flickered, as though he was holding back a smirk. “What use would the sword be to us if there is no Crest to use it?”

“We will have to discuss the matter of the Crest of Flames another time. For right now, for _this_ moment, this is the exchange we offer.”

Theron seemed to ponder his options, since it was unusual for him to remain silent for so long. Then, finally, he nodded. “Very well. Show it to me.”

I gestured for him to follow us. His masked guards also joined us on our short trek outside the village. We were far enough away that the village had disappeared behind one of the hills, but Claude would still be able to see it from where he was. Should the Agarthans try anything, we would know.

Dedue stood exactly where we planned, holding a sword bundled in cloth. I took the Sword of the Creator from the fabric and held its hilt in my fist.

_Sothis, please forgive me for this. I will get you back_.

“Show us Hanneman.”

Theron nodded to the masked Agarthan on his left, and the person vanished momentarily, returning quickly with a battered old man on his knees. Hanneman’s face was hardly recognizable through the purple and swollen skin. His chin touched his chest as he slumped over with his arms limp by his sides.

“Hanneman…” I breathed.

“He will live,” Theron assured us. “Besides, what you _see_ is not the worst of what he endured.”

“You monsters,” Dimitri hissed, and I touched his arm.

“As I said, he will live.” Theron shrugged. “I will even show how much I trust your judgment by releasing him to you first. Then you may hand over the sword.”

I nodded. The masked Agarthan lifted Hanneman effortlessly like a rag doll and closed the distance between us. Dedue stepped forward and took Hanneman from the masked Agarthan, holding him with a bit more care.

My grip tightened around the hilt of the Sword of the Creator. I could flee right now. We had Hanneman. I thought for a moment that this was what Theron expected us to do somehow. But it would be the perfect excuse to attack again, should we go back on a deal.

I walked over to Theron and handed the sword to him. He gripped the hilt in his metal hand while cradling the blade in his own, running his fingers along the vertebrae that magically forged a sword that could mythically slice a mountain in two.

“Such simple creatures…”

Theron looked up, and I followed his gaze to where the monastery sat on top of the hill. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary, at least until I looked back. Adonis had appeared, hints of injury on his right arm and lower chest based on how he carried himself, but it was not his injuries that mattered. He held up a bottle and wiggled it back and forth; the liquid inside wobbled like a thick broth.

My son’s Crest…

I held up my hand, and an arrow sped from behind the Agarthans straight into Theron’s back. His eyes widened, and his grip on the Sword of the Creator loosened, but that split second was all I could see. The small group vanished, the Sword of the Creator, the Crest of Flames, and the Failnaught’s arrow gone with them.

“Felix and Mercedes. They were at the Holy Tomb. We need to get to them _now_,” Dimitri said, startling me out of my own state of shock.

I couldn’t bring myself to speak, so I nodded.

Felix… Mercedes…

All I could do now was pray to a goddess who no longer existed to save them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know I always have excuses about why it takes me so long to update. The school year is finally over, though, and remote learning was… something. I’m going to be starting some additional graduate classes soon, so fingers crossed I can get some updates out before then.
> 
> In other news: it’s my birthday! You know what I would like for my birthday? For you to drop a comment about the story! It will be the greatest gift of all! :)


	27. Of the Soul

**Chapter Twenty-Seven – Of the Soul**

We ran as fast as we could. Dedue, carrying Hanneman, stumbled a few times over the rocky terrain leading up to the monastery, and I had to pause against trees twice to catch my breath. Dimitri kept telling me that I shouldn’t be running like this, should just try to relax and hope for the best because it wasn’t good for the baby to be as frazzled as I was now. But his voice betrayed his panic, too. Felix was one of his best and longest friends, after all, even if the friendship was strained every now and again.

I noticed my heart now more than ever, pounding feverishly against my chest with both the gift of adrenaline and scourge of panic. But it was the emotions within me that gave me the most trouble. I noticed it briefly over the last few days since the removal of my Crest. Little things struck bigger reactions. Hearing Katrina refuse to listen woke annoyance and anger within me; likewise, hearing her speak softly with her brother nearly brought tears to my eyes.

This was not a consequence Hanneman mentioned, but it was one that made sense. Sothis’s heart, the Crest of Flames, was not unlike a locked box, within which rested my own heart. While she masked my emotions and kept them muted, save only for her greater reactions, freeing myself from that box opened a world of emotions with which I had never grappled.

And now, a flurry of all those terrible burdens weighed within me now that the box had been unlocked. Panic that we wouldn’t make it in time to my friends, anger that I had been tricked yet again when I promised I wouldn’t be, hope that Claude’s arrow pierced Theron’s heart back there. I could not control them all.

“Wait.”

Dedue’s voice broke through the cacophony of my heart and soul at odds with each other, and I stopped. He had dropped to his knees and leaned Hanneman up against a tree. The old man’s head was slumped down onto his chest still, but I could no longer see the rise and fall of his chest.

“What’s wrong?” Claude asked as the remaining three of us gathered around.

Dedue was peeling off Hanneman’s overcoat now, and Dimitri dropped to his knees to help. “Something is wrong,” he explained as they now lifted Hanneman up to get the overcoat off his arms. The two worked on his sweater next, and when they lifted it, they revealed a deep purple abdomen, swollen and speckled. His ribs were broken in multiple places, perhaps completely shattered.

“Goddess…” Claude whispered.

I dropped to the ground next and grabbed Hanneman’s wrist, counting in my head as the pulses weakly made their way to my fingertips. Closer now, I could see the shallow breaths he took, a shudder in his battered chest. Both his pulse and breaths were slow and weak, his skin icy compared to my own.

“What do we do?” I asked.

“I…” Dedue hesitated. It was unlike him.

Dimitri stood again and grasped Areadbhar so tightly that his knuckles turned white. And then he flipped it over so that the boned coronal was hooked down towards the retired professor.

I looked back at Hanneman, gaze traveling over his bloodied body up to his swollen face, taking in his labored breaths. He would never make it back to the monastery, and without my faith magic, none of us could heal him.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out his monocle, the glass sparkling like shattered stars in a crystal-clear sky. Though broken, it remained whole.

We didn’t have the time to leisurely think this through. I nodded at Dimitri, and Dedue dressed Hanneman once more. I clipped the monocle to his sweater and tilted his head back. The monocle perched perfectly atop his right swollen cheek.

Dedue and I took a step back, and Claude reached over and took my hand. Such a gesture seemed unlike him, but then I realized tears were dripping off my chin.

We all watched as Dimitri ended Hanneman’s pain. I didn’t wince at the sound of Areadbhar piercing skin. It was a sound with which I was all too familiar.

“They lied.”

Dimitri turned back to look at me while he cleaned the blood off Areadbhar. “Byleth?”

Something _burned_. Something within my soul called out like a raging storm. The tears stopped falling, and instead by eyes turned to fire. My heart was ablaze, ready to rampage, to travel across the winds and destroy everything in its path.

“They said he would live.” My voice shook.

“By, look at me.” Dimitri handed his lance over to Dedue and stepped closer to me, placing both hands on my shoulders. Claude still held my hand, and he stroked it now with his thumb. “What you’re feeling now… you can control it. We will get them back, but we’ll do it the respectable way, like you made me. Do not ignore your feelings but address them. Accept them.”

If Felix and Mercedes were…

I ripped my hand out of Claude’s grip and shook Dimitri’s hands off my shoulders. “Let’s go.”

First Ashe… sweet Ashe. Now Hanneman—who had nothing to do with this, who I dragged into this seemingly pointlessly now that the Agarthans had my son’s Crest anyway—fell to them. And not just fell… he suffered. He had information beaten out of him. Information I would have given freely if I could have saved either one of them.

Something erupted from within me as I started running again, a growl or something deeper. I wouldn’t let anyone else die.

I made it back to the monastery first, with Dimitri at my heels. Claude and Dedue fell far behind, taking care of Hanneman together, so when I looked back at the woods, I couldn’t even see them anymore. But the feeling, the pain, it was still there. The color purple, the sparkling of splintered glass, the haunting pulse of a man left for dead.

“Byleth.”

I ignored Dimitri and continued towards the cathedral. Seteth and Sylvain addressed me briefly, too, but I moved past them. If those two were okay, it meant that the Agarthans hadn’t bothered wasting their time around the monastery; they went directly to the Holy Tomb. No more games, no more playing human, it seemed.

The doors to the Holy Tomb groaned with their own weight upon being pushed open. By this point, adrenaline alone kept me going. My stamina had been extinguished, and I leaned against the door for a moment to catch my breath.

“Byleth, stop.”

“They’re right there. They have to be right there,” I said, pushing myself up off the door and steadying myself. I took a step towards the stairs, but Dimitri took hold of my wrist and stood firm.

“And if they are not?” he asked, his eye looking beyond me into the darkness that awaited us down those stairs to the Holy Tomb. “We go together.”

Somehow, the anger subdued with those three words. I might very well be sick to my stomach now, but I remembered Dimitri’s face down here all those years ago and wondered if my expression matched his. The only way to cure myself of this, the only way Dimitri’s hatred relaxed, was to go together with the one who understood me best.

I nodded, and Dimitri took the first step down. I held one hand against the wall to stable myself as I followed, the other now on Dimitri’s back as if to make sure he was still there. Sylvain and Seteth had followed us, too, but kept some distance behind me. At the base of the steps, past the darkness of the unknown, the flicker of candlelight from within the tomb illuminated the expansive space hidden beneath the monastery.

I saw Mercedes first, perched up against the rubble of a destroyed pillar. She reminded me of Hanneman at first, with her chin touching her chest, and my fingers curled against Dimitri’s back. But then Mercedes looked up and forced a smile.

“Professor. Dimitri. Oh, and Sylvain and Seteth, too.”

I let go of Dimitri and ran towards her. “You’re okay?”

Mercedes leaned her head back against the broken pillar. “I am. But Felix…”

My gaze followed Mercedes’s hand as she pointed across the room. Sylvain had darted over to his best friend’s side but hadn’t touched him, instead kneeling and examining the damage.

I stood to join him but stopped when Mercedes tapped my hand. “I cast a blessing on him right before the Agarthans attacked him,” she told me. “He needs medical attention, more than what I can provide right now, but the blessing worked. He’ll be fine.”

“Mercedes…” I leaned back down and wrapped my arms around her. “Let’s get you fixed up, too, all right?”

* * *

The last time I hid like this to avoid facing the world around me was when my father died. I kept myself cooped up either in his office, where I passed hours reading his diary and tracing his handwriting with my fingertips, or in my bedroom, curled under the covers of my bed far longer than was acceptable for a woman my age.

Now, it wasn’t as easy to hide, given that no one would let me alone. Alexi and Katrina still needed attention from their mother, after all, and Dimitri wouldn’t leave the bed until I told him I would, too. When I did get up, Sylvain followed me around like a shadow. The good news was that Sylvain was being less nosy than Dimitri and would leave me mostly alone, except to provide me updates on Felix’s condition.

My heart ached when he spoke to me about Felix. I had yet to visit the infirmary where he and Mercedes were recovering, and I was sure that was _why_ Sylvain spoke of him so often. He knew I was avoiding going there, but at the same time, I didn’t think he was speaking out of malice. He wanted me to know our friends were okay. That was all.

I almost made it there several times in the week that followed. Yet each time I walked past while my mind _begged_ me to enter that room, heading instead to the library beyond it. I sat in there for hours flipping through texts without comprehending a word. I wiped my eyes dry any time someone entered, usually a student, and Sylvain made no mention of my red eyes when I left.

Sylvain made excuse after excuse for me when others came looking. Annette tried to bring me fresh-baked rolls once, and Sylvain accepted them with a smile and steered her away to go visit Felix, even though she assured him she had just been to the infirmary chatting with Mercedes. Seteth wanted to know the next steps, now that the Agarthans had everything they wanted and would surely be ready to end this soon, and Sylvain distracted him by talking about Flayn. Claude even came by to try to speak with me—as a friend, he assured Sylvain, not as a tactician—but Sylvain whispered something that I couldn’t hear, and Claude left.

The only ones Sylvain let into the library to see me as I hid were my children. Alexi was perceptive enough to know something was wrong, and he sat in my lap reading a picture book without saying a word to me. Katrina was singing the alphabet at the top of her lungs and following students around when they came in to work on homework.

A full week passed like this, with me flitting back and forth between my room and the library almost exclusively, before Sylvain let someone else in to see me. I didn’t turn around to look, instead jumping when something poked me in the back of the head.

“Get up.”

I shifted, looking over my shoulder with one hand rubbing my head. Felix was balancing on one wooden crutch, the other lifted towards my face. He was avoiding pressure on his left leg, which was bandaged spectacularly from knee to ankle. Sylvain told me he also suffered damage to almost his entire abdomen from the dark magic cast by the Agarthans. I pictured purple rotting flesh in my mind and winced away from Felix.

“Hey. I said to get up.” He nudged me in the shoulder this time with his crutch.

“You need to go back to the infirmary,” I said, looking down at the book I was pretending to read. “You shouldn’t be up yet.”

“How would you know?” Felix snapped. The wooden floor groaned under his weight as he wobbled to my side where I could not avoid him unless I completely turned away from him. “Listen, I get it. You feel guilty. I know what that’s like. But you need to pull it together and prepare for what’s coming next.”

“The only reason you’re alive is because of Mercedes’s quick thinking.” I slammed my book shut and looked him in the eye now. “You all told me not to go meet with Theron, and I thought I knew better. I thought I could outsmart him when I have yet to do so this entire time. Ashe is dead because of me, Hanneman is dead because of me, a dozen or so students who had nothing to do with this, hundreds of innocent soldiers, and thousands of commoners.”

“Professor…” Sylvain joined us now, and he crouched down to be eye level with me. “We are here because we know the risks and _want_ to help. You of all people should understand that—as a survivor and as a mercenary. Hell, as Dimitri’s wife.”

I closed my eyes and exhaled slowly. “I know, I just…”

“No excuses. Pull it together. I can’t deal with _two_ boars.” Felix lifted one of his crutches again, and I held up my hands in defeat. “Whatever getting rid of the goddess did to you, you need to overcome it. Fewer excuses, more action.”

“Fewer excuses, more action…” I repeated.

“It’s what I’ve always liked about you. You don’t beat around the bush. You’re someone I can trust to make decisions rooted in reason and logic, not emotion,” Felix continued. “I’m not telling you that you aren’t allowed to feel guilty or upset. I just want you to know that you have never let that stop you in the past, so don’t let it stop you now.”

When did Felix get to sound so much like Rodrigue? He would deny it, adamantly so, but then again, I thought he might be proud to know, too. Even so, I kept my silence.

Sylvain, still crouching beside me, held out his hand. I had met his father just once at my wedding to Dimitri, before the Margrave passed the title on, and I admitted that my view was slightly clouded knowing what I did about Miklan. The man was polite and had helped us tremendously during the war, but still I knew that Sylvain would do the family one better.

I slipped my hand into his, and he helped me to my feet. He put a hand on my head and messed up my hair like he would do with Alexi, and I punched his arm to make him stop. But when he smiled at me, I managed a smile back.

I turned to Felix and sized him up. He appeared more fragile than I had ever seen, but I knew that even now he would take up his sword if it meant protecting me or his friends. And as his friend, I couldn’t let that happen.

“Thank you,” I said quietly to him.

“Yeah, whatever.” I could have sworn I saw a blush creep onto Felix’s cheeks. “Now you should go talk to that husband of yours. He’s driving me crazy.”

“Oh?”

“He’s in the infirmary every other hour asking me or Mercedes what he should do, as if I care,” Felix explained. “Should he give you space and let you work it out on your own or should he be by your side to help you work it through? If I have to hear him talk about that one more time, I will run him through.”

Sylvain laughed. “That’s _mostly_ why Felix is here right now. Please, Professor, save him from such torment.”

“I have been giving him the cold shoulder a bit,” I admitted.

“Then we best warm it up.” Sylvain held his arm out toward me, and I looped mine around it. “For His Majesty’s sake and Felix’s.”

* * *

Now that the conflict was reaching its climax, with what we expected to be the culmination of everything the Agarthans had been working towards coming up as soon as they figured out what to do with the Crest, Seteth made the order that everyone at the monastery had to travel in groups of two or more. There was nothing stopping the Agarthans from teleporting into the campus and slaughtering me in my sleep now that they had what they wanted, and that went for anyone close to me, too. So, to be better safe than sorry, we were best off playing it safe, students included.

Once Sylvain escorted me to the library, I didn’t really have any idea what Dimitri did all day. I knew there were meetings happening without me about what our next strategy would be, but those were not all-day affairs. Clearly he also visited Felix and Mercedes. When he wasn’t in one of those two places? The training grounds, perhaps, with Dedue?

But Sylvain and I found only students in the training grounds now, and the knights’ hall, too, was filled only with a knight and a couple of students.

It seemed an unlikely hour for lunch, but we headed to the dining hall next anyway. Sure enough, my husband, kids, and Claude were there, each one with a piece of parchment in front of them and a pile of pastels between them.

“Ah, if only Ignatz were here to memorialize this moment with his paints,” Sylvain quipped as we approached the table where they sat. Alexi tugged on Sylvain’s hand to show his drawing. “Ah, that must be Claude’s wyvern. Very nice… goddess, it’s a lot better than Uncle Claude’s drawing, Holy Macuil…”

Alexi beamed at Sylvain’s praise and then continued to draw, while Claude furrowed his brow at his own drawing.

It had not escaped my notice that Dimitri tried to hide his parchment when he noticed me standing beside Sylvain. “Have you eaten lunch yet? I think there are still some leftovers,” he said to me, as if trying to pull my attention elsewhere.

“I’m fine. Can we talk?” I asked.

He nodded and stood, trying his best to leave his drawing behind. But I grabbed it when he thought I wasn’t looking anymore. I started to peek at it when Dimitri made a move to take it back, and we each had one hand locked on the fragile parchment now. If either one of us pulled, it might very well rip—which could be exactly what he wanted.

I let go, and Dimitri rolled the parchment and held it against his chest. “Sneaky,” he muttered.

We started to walk away, awkwardly distanced and slowly shuffling our feet. Finally, Dimitri cleared his throat and handed me the parchment he wanted to protect.

“I was going to steal it at some point anyway,” I told him, and he smiled.

“I know.”

I unraveled the roll and flipped the parchment right-side up. I touched the oily pastels on the sheet and took in the sight of my own face staring up at me. The woman on the page smiled up at me with parted lips, like someone had just said something to make her laugh. I wondered if I had ever actually made that face in my life.

“You’re talented,” I whispered.

“Well, royalty gets educated in all the fine arts. It is against tradition that Alexi has not yet started his formal lessons on the art history of Faerghus.” Dimitri stood behind me and leaned down to rest his chin on my shoulder. “This is embarrassing for me, you know.”

“As it is for me,” I agreed. “Have you ever seen me smile like this?”

“Just last week, in fact, when Alexi was teaching Katrina how to read.” He wrapped his arms around me and folded his hands together, resting his palms on my protruding stomach. We were alone outside the dining hall, but there was certainly nothing stopping anyone from walking in on us. Even still, he pressed a kiss to my neck. “And I am looking forward to it again.” Another kiss. “And again.”

I remained still against his touch even as my body begged to melt to his touch. “Why?”

“Sothis held your emotions under lock and key, did she not? Now you are free to experience them as they come. That means you have to learn how to deal with all the extremes that you have never felt before—the anger and betrayal you feel, of course, when bad things happen.” Dimitri released one of his hands to brush some of my hair to the other side of my neck. “But also the happiness and hope of the good things.”

“But I’ve _felt_ anger before. I’ve felt happy. Why does this feel so wrong now?” I asked.

“I didn’t understand either. Not until you.” His breath as he spoke tickled my ear. “We experience layers of emotion. For so long, the only thing I felt was anger. Such a superficial thing. But you made me realize it was so much more complex than that. It was not just anger, but aggression and distance. Not just aggression but hostility. Not just distance but withdrawal.”

I pulled away from him and turned to face him now. “What if that makes me different? And not in a good way?”

He smiled at me. “You loved me even when I was struggling, didn’t you?” _When I was different_, a silent addendum. “Besides, you’re not different. You’re just experiencing more depth than before. It’s something you have to get used to, and you will. We will. Together.”

My heart still ached, my mind still reeled. I wanted revenge.

And I realized, in me, Dimitri saw himself. That was the very reason why we would be able to do this together—because we already had.

I glanced down once more at the drawing before rolling it up. “Have I told you lately that I love you? Desperately and unconditionally so?”

“You could mention it more often,” my husband—my dear, beloved husband—joked. He still didn’t have the greatest sense of humor, but oh, how he tried. “But then again, so could I.”

“Do you think Claude and Sylvain would mind watching the kids for a little longer?” I slipped my hand into his and took a step back, prepared to lead him away from this place to somewhere with a little more privacy. I could get used to some of this _depth_ to which my husband referred.

Dimitri followed, increasing his gait to walk side-by-side, hand-in-hand with me. “They might,” he admitted, “but I’m not giving them a choice.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, as you can see, I did not have time to update before my classes began. The good news is that they aren’t too bad. You know, I’m feeling pretty darn positive about finishing this story soon.
> 
> I say that. But of course. I’m me. With no rhyme or reason to my updating. Classic.
> 
> Also, thank you for the birthday wishes last time! Much appreciated.


End file.
